Save You From Yourself
by Blank Paiges
Summary: AU!Assassin Arthur Kirkland never expected to befriend Bodyguard Alfred F. Jones. Nor did he expect the assassins and bodyguards to join forces to destroy a threat to their existence...Nor did he expect to fall in love. US/UK, Fr/Can, RussCho, and more.
1. Operation: Save My True Love

**A one-shot. Emphasis on **_**one-shot. **_**That's it! I'm done, man. **

**First shot at Alternate Universe, btw.**

**Summary: AU! Assassin Arthur Kirkland thinks that absolutely nothing would prevent him from killing just about anyone. Bodyguard Alfred F. Jones begs to differ. Bodyguard!US/Assassin!UK.**

**Disclaimer: I wish! But no, I own nothing.**

_**Save You From Yourself**_

Blood.

Blood stained the snow. It was splattered all about in random directions, on random walls. It mocked passersby. The red accentuated the vast color of white around it-and it smelled of copper. A single body lay in the middle of it all, silent and lonely and _dead._

A bloody body.

A bloody alley.

Blood-stained snow.

A blood-stained heart.

And it was beautiful.

Assassin Arthur Kirkland snapped out of his mirage. It hadn't happened yet-the man was still there, in the alley, very much alive and well...but the assassin could taste it. The inevitable end of the man he was requested to kill. He smirked and cocked his gun, taking careful aim.

The height of where he was never bothered him. He sat perched upon the top of the building, waiting and watching. That man had been waiting in the God-forsaken alley for a while now and no one had shown up. Now was his chance.

He made sure the target was in reach-that it was an easy kill.

His index finger lay positioned on the trigger of the gun. Arthur pulled it back slightly, not even wincing at the cold snow that fell on his body.

"And just what are we doing, now, Kirkland?"

_Shit, _Arthur immediately thought. He had jumped slightly, but not too much.

He turned around slowly and glared at the American behind him, who was wearing his regular bomber jacket, and had his handgun drawn.

"Jones," the assassin hissed, standing up from his previous kneeling position and placing the gun to his side. "What the hell are you doing here?" When he received no response, Arthur smirked and allowed his cigarette to fall out of his mouth. He kicked it towards the American and made a gesture that meant "shoo" with his left hand-the one not wielding a gun at the moment.

"Fuck off, do-gooder."

"I wish I could, but," Alfred smiled abnormally cheerily, "you were about to assassinate my client, my good sir." The annoying American stepped lightly on the roof of the building, making footprints in the snow atop it. He leaned in so that he and the Brit were mere inches apart. "That doesn't sit straight with me."

Arthur ignored the mad churning in his stomach, dismissing it as mere disgust for the man before him. "What a pity. So, you've been hired to protect this man, have you?" He made a gesture towards the man, who was now smoking his third cigarette.

Alfred nodded curtly. "I'm the hero, the bodyguard, if you prefer. I'm gonna protect him, even if my life's on the line."

Some part of Arthur praised Alfred for that kind of talk. God knows how little people there were in the world that thought like that anymore. The other part of him hated the git for how naive he must be.

Arthur shrugged and began to position his gun again, aiming for the head. "Idiot."

Suddenly, Alfred grabbed Arthur's gun and threw it to the side. Arthur looked to the side at his gun, then shrugged and pulled out a hangun.

The American attempted to grab this one as well, but Arthur dodged him swiftly, flipping up into the air and landing behind Alfred. He slowly-_This isn't teasing_-wrapped his left arm around Alfred's waist and used his right hand to jab the gun in the American's neck.

"I don't want to have to do this Jones," the assassin murmured in Alfred's ear. They felt both of their faces heat up-but both dismissed it as the cold weather. "None of my bullets are meant for you."

Alfred smirked. "That's a shame." He jabbed Arthur in the gut, who grunted in pain and cursed, and then reversed their positions.

"I would be honored to be shot by one of your bullets, dude," he laughed in the assassin's ear. "You always were beautiful."

Arthur's eyes widened and he searched Alfred's face for any signs of joking. There were none. This was one of those instances where Alfred was being totally serious. And it both pissed Arthur off and made him so happy he could burst. _He thinks I'm...beautiful?_

Arthur flushed a deep red and kicked his left leg out, but the American dodged it. He held his handgun up and pointed it at the American.

"Don't _say _things like that!" he growled. Alfred laughed.

"What? Does it bother you?"

Arthur spat on the ground and turned once again to the alleyway-only to find that his target was gone. He cursed loudly, turned around, and shoved Alfred in the chest.

"Why the hell did you do that? Now he's gotten away! That was the deal of a lifetime," the assassin screamed openly at his face now. Alfred shrugged.

"My job. I do it right, and I do it good," he said smoothly.

The British man sighed and went to go pick up the sniper that had been knocked out of his hand moments before. He slung it over his back and, turning away from the American, carefully pocketed the handgun in his thigh sheath.

Too bad that blasted yankee noticed anyway.

"You have a thigh sheath?" the American sounded genuinely impressed. He had also put away his weapons, and was now staring at the spot in-between Arthur's legs, where the thigh sheath was, albeit blushing. "That's...that's sexy."

"Shut up! You're worse than Francis!" The British assassin cried, though his face grew to a massive shade of red. "You've already ruined my job for tonight...now I'm going to have to murder someone on Christmas Eve!"

Alfred blinked. "What's wrong with murdering on Christmas Eve?"

The assassin's eyes flashed. "I just don't like doing it. It's cruel."

The bodyguard doubled over from laughter. "And assassination isn't?"

"Do shut up," the British assassin insisted, sitting on the edge of the tall building. "I'm just different."

The American bodyguard's face was solemn for once and he sat down next to the assassin. Enemies-on a rooftop. Alfred ruffled Arthur's hair lightly and smiled brightly.

"And that's what I like about you."

Arthur, intrigued, rose one of his bushy eyebrows. His black trench coat drifted in the December breeze. "What?"

"You're different...from the other assassins," Alfred pointed out. "Most wouldn't give a crap about assassinating on the holidays. You actually care." Arthur looked at him like he was crazy, and then rolled his eyes and took in the vast London panorama.

"Rubbish."

"It's _true_ rubbish, though," Alfred insisted. He whipped out his gloves from his bomber jacket and put them on. "I don't see why you kill."

"I kill because it's all I've ever done, you moron," Arthur spat. He debated on whether or not he had lost his sanity. He was opening up to his _arch nemesis-_his enemy, the one he was _supposed _to be hell bent on killing.

That...that didn't explain why he got so twisted up inside at the thought of him, does it?

"My mother was an alcoholic," Arthur explained, albeit sadly. "She ran away from us. My father got depression." He made hanging motions with his hands, smirking, and Alfred rose an eyebrow. "Hung himself. Poor bloke. My grandparents took me in. I murdered my first person in the eighth grade. Then I ran away."

Arthur then smiled-but it was sad, and forced. "The end."

A silence passed over the two of them. Alfred didn't know whether or not he wanted to laugh or cry-all he _did _know was this:

He wanted to be a hero. He wanted to save people from certain death.

The American knew that the concept of it was naive, and maybe even stupid. But he believed in the concept of a perfect world. A better world.

And for some reason-he just _knew _that it had to start by saving Assassin Arthur Kirkland from his deep-seated misery.

"You don't have to kill, you know," Alfred explained. "Like, uh, me!" He pointed to himself for emphasis. "I'm addicted to saving people just like you're addicted to..uh, killin' 'em." He paused. The Brit seemed bored at this point.

"I'm just saying...why can't you be addicted to saving people, too?"

Arthur blinked and then looked away, scowling. "That's stupid, Jones."

"Call me Alfred."

Arthur was surprised at the sudden demand, but shrugged. "Fine. That's stupid, _Alfred. _Happy now?"

"No," Alfred stated bluntly. "I want you to give up your life of crime."

Arthur laughed bitterly. "And you think it's just that easy, eh? That I can just go out on the street just like you ordinary blokes and simply _resist _the urge to slit someone's throat? To push someone in front of a car? To shoot someone in the back of the head?"

"Yes," the bodyguard dead-panned. "But...I...shoot, I can't believe I'm saying this."

Arthur blinked and pushed a strand of dirty blonde hair behind his ear.

"I like you! I know you're an assassin and all, but I like you...Kirkland. A lot," Alfred was flushed and he was scratching the back of his head. The abnormal strand of hair on his head stood up straighter than usual-it was weird.

"You're that assassin that doesn't like to get too involved. I watched you attempt to murder that man a week ago-"

"You s_talk _me?"

"Listen!" Alfred snapped. That was enough to shut Arthur up. "But when you saw that he had children, you immediately called HQ and said you demanded another job!"

The assassin leaned his head on the palm of his hand and sighed. "So?"

"So you're not a bad guy," Alfred said. He stood up and kneeled down in front of Arthur, leaning in close so that they were-as they had billions of times-inches apart. However, this time, it felt...different.

Arthur flushed again. "A-Alfred...What are-?"

"I know a bad guy when I see one. You aren't one."

Dead silence fell on the two. Finally, Arthur stood and shook snow off of his trench coat.

"You can't, Jones," Arthur told him, his voice trembling. "You cannot _save _a man who has done a life's worth of treacherous and unspeakable deeds! You can't..._save _me, Jones." And, as an aftermath, he added, "No one can."

Alfred was silent. Then, he said, "Are you sure about that? That no one can save you?" _Everyone can be saved. I wanna be the one to save you. _"Keep thinking that. 'Cause I'm not about to give up on you, Arthur Kirkland."

There was another long silence. The wind halted its howling, and the snow stopped falling. Arthur's shocked look turned into one of confusion, pity, and then back to loathing.

"You are an idiot, Alfred F. Jones," he spat before jumping off the ledge onto another building and disappearing into the night.

Alfred smiled and pushed his glasses-affectionately named "Texas"-up his nose.

There was no way he could tell Arthur the truth. Not at all.

He smiled cheerfully and leaped off of the building as well, landing, as always, on his feet and walking to the limo awaiting him. He opened the door and got in.

"How did it go, Alfred-san?"

"Fine, Kiku. Kirkland wasn't able to kill him."

"Kirkland?" Kiku's face darkened a bit. "Were you distracted at all?"

Alfred's smile faded, only to be replaced by another beaming smile seconds afterwards. "Distracted? By Kirkland?" The American laughed, and then, smirking, he added:

"Hell, yes."

Kiku rolled his eyes knowingly at the American, before tapping on the window separating them from the driver and demanding, "Drive."

And the bodyguard, too, disappeared into the night.

The truth was that Alfred F. Jones, bodyguard extroardinaire, had fallen head over heels in love with Arthur Kirland, London's best assassin.

And he wasn't going to give up until the assassin was saved-from himself, and from the world around him.

"Let the game begin," Alfred murmured, and beautiful green eyes flashed in his mind before he fell asleep.

_**~Save You From Yourself~**_

**I don't know about you guys, but my favorite part was the thigh sheath. *shot***

***sigh* Anyway, it's done. And it's a one-shot...*shot again***

**Ow! Fine. Why don't you review..? Kolkolkolkol...**

**Kidding! Reviews are love, btw.**

**LoveHateLove,**

**Blank Paiges XD**


	2. Operation: Will To Kill

**You demanded it...you got it. Because I love you guys to bits.**

**And you have the people that cried to thank for that (SnowGirl999 and Sakushiro), because I don't like making people cry. It's why I don't write angst. :D**

**Disclaimer: Ha! As if. No.**

_**Chapter 2: Operation: Will to Kill**_

_You're different, Kirkland._

Assassin Arthur Kirkland dodged the blow one of the gang members threw at him, took his arm, and twisted it behind him. The man yelped in pain and Arthur snickered and kicked him into a nearby garbage bin. Arthur then, without turning around, shot the man coming behind him in the foot, who fell over clutching it.

"Amateurs," he mumbled under his breath. He then looked around at the all-but-dead gang members around him, and demanded icily, "Where's Todd?"

One of the gang members opened his mouth to reply, but suddenly and spontaneously died. Arthur spat on the ground, tucking the gun into his thigh sheath.

"Well, if you're going to die anyway, so why not just tell me, and I'll be on my way?" the British assassin insisted, and one of them piped up, weakly.

"He's...at some bar right now," the man choked out.

Arthur kneeled down next to him and pulled out some gauze, wrapping it around the stab wound he had given him moments earlier. "Smart of you," the assassin commented. "Which bar?"

"T-the Crown," he spat out. Arthur nodded-he knew that place.

He finished bandaging the man's wounds and then stood up. The man gingerly moved his arm this way and that, before smiling timidly and thanking him.

"Don't mention it," Arthur growled, gathering all the strength he could muster and leaping to the top of the very building. He later came back and yelled from the top, "Ever!" And he was gone.

The man he'd bandaged smiled and touched his hurt arm. "What a weird assassin."

_**~Operation: Will To Kill~**_

Arthur jumped from rooftop-to-rooftop, making sure not to fall about five stories to the ground below him. The biting wind nipped at his cheek and threatened to throw him off course. However, he had had a lot of practice.

It was when he was atop the roof of the bar that he stopped to catch his breath, sitting on the edge of the roof. He pulled out his knife from his right thigh sheath and admired its sharp edge, preparing it for the dirty job it was about to do tonight.

"Could you stop pulling things out of your thigh sheath when I'm spying on you?" A voice said from the shadows. Arthur jumped, and Bodyguard Alfred F. Jones came out from behind the shadows, hands on his hips and smirking.

"It gets me slightly aroused."

"You _are _worse than Francis!" Arthur yelled, throwing the knife with expert precision. He just wondered why that "expert precision" made him aim just centimeters from the American's head, instead of right at it.

"No," Alfred smiled, taking the knife and pulling it gracefully out of the wall, "I am much, _much _better than Francis, man. Don't compare me to him."

He walked up to Arthur, and the assassin suddenly found himself incapable of moving a muscle. He blamed it on the cold-the biting, bone-breaking cold.

Alfred took the knife and, starting at the thigh sheath, traced its sharp tip up Arthur's body until the knife was level with his face. Arthur blushed like a madman.

"I think this is yours, Arthur," Alfred purred, and Arthur couldn't think for the life of him why he wanted to kiss the bodyguard so bad. _Too much hanging out with Francis, _he thought.

Arthur took the knife and, turning around, placed it in his thigh sheath. Alfred watched anyway, even if Arthur had turned around.

"I told you to stop doing that," the American whined.

"Fuck off," Arthur demanded, and then jumped down, landing like cat, right in front of the bar. Alfred shrugged and followed suit, landing on his feet as well.

Arthur rose a bushy eyebrow. "Not bad."

The American laughed. "Was that a compliment?"

"No," the British assassin dead-panned, "it's a 'I'm-still-better-than-you-so-fuck-off-and-let-me-work'." Alfred whistled.

"Murdering someone tonight?"

"What else would I be doing," Arthur stated blatantly, knocking on the door. A man opened it, looked Arthur over, and immediately let him in. Alfred attempted to follow suit, but the guard stopped him.

"Who's this, then, Kirk?" the guard asked. Arthur sighed.

"An idiot."

"I'm a cute idiot!" Alfred pointed out.

"Should I let him in?" the guard asked.

Arthur paused. "Yes," he said, "just don't let him do anything. I'm on duty at the moment."

The guard chuckled, his huge muscles shaking. "Then should I call the cops? 'Hello, officer, I'm calling to tell you about a pre-determined murder that is about to happen'."

Arthur, then, laughed.

Alfred swore to Lady Liberty that that was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard in his life.

The guard let Alfred in and walked next to Arthur.

"You two seem to know each other well," Alfred told him, letting a hint of jealousy escape into his voice. Arthur shrugged.

"I should," he replied. "He's my uncle."

Alfred gawked at the assassin. "Your...uncle?"

Arthur smiled at the bodyguard's expression. "I hate to say it, but I have family, too, you know. Even me." And Alfred was silent.

_My mother was an alcoholic. She ran away from us._

_My father got depression. Hung himself._

Alfred shivered, remembering the assassin's words from several nights ago. _Poor Arthur, _he thought. _He's had no one to love him for his entire life, save maybe his uncle._

Alfred sighed. "So you're gonna kill someone again tonight?"

"Don't tell me he's hired you to protect him," Arthur groaned, unbuttoning his trench coat and placing it on a nearby hook. It took all of Alfred's strength not to comment on how the tight-fitting, black outfit underneath Arthur's trench coat was so damn _hot. _

"Er, no," Alfred said hurriedly. "Hell, no. This guy Todd is a _real _scum bag. I only protect the innocent." He paused.

"Why don't you just send him to jail instead?" Alfred offered, and Arthur gave him a look of pure hatred. Alfred ignored it. "Instead of, you know, killin' him?"

The British assassin shrugged his shoulders. "Let me think about it," he said. Then, he looked up at the sky for about ten seconds, and said, "Done. I'm killin' him. This job is worth a lot."

And he began to walk towards the room where Todd supposedly was-the man who would have his death handed to him tonight.

Alfred knew there was no stopping Arthur this time, so he decided to initiate Plan B.

"Hey, Arthur?"

Said man turned around and, annoyed, placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Yes, Alfred?"

Alfred paused, then smiled. _I'm going to save you. _"You said you don't normally do anything else at night except killing, right?"

Arthur paused. "Erm, yes."

The American shrugged his shoulders. "Then, maybe you could...I dunno...have dinner with me sometime? Like, after you beat the living daylights out of Todd?"

Arthur stared at the bodyguard for quite some time, before blinking. Alfred thought he might just be rejected, and he was getting ready to feel the crushing blow of the word "no", when-

"I'll think about it," passed Arthur's lips.

_I'll think about it! I'll think about it! _Alfred silently cheered for himself. Ninety-nine percent of the chicks he'd dated had said that, and all of them meant "Hell, yes".

"'Kay! Great!"

"Great."

"Yeah, so, um...McDonald's?"

"Are you serious?"

"Oh, c'mon!"

"That's hardly what I'd call a dinner!"

"Please?"

Arthur sighed in annoyance, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Fine."

"Yay! You're great, Artie," Alfred cheered. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Whatever," he spat.

"So, 8:30?" Alfred asked. Arthur nodded his hesitant agreement, before opening the door and slamming it behind him. Alfred couldn't stop smiling.

_I'll get you yet, _Alfred thought. _I'll see what makes you snap._

_**~Will to Kill~**_

_Blood._

Blood, all over him. Arthur smiled and pulled out his handkerchief, wiping some off of his knife, and his face. Then he pocketed the knife into his thigh sheath, and kneeled down in front of the dead body of Roger Todd.

"You got what was coming to you, you bloody bastard," he told him, mockingly. "I just hope you end up somewhere good, like hell."

Then, Arthur picked himself up, dropped his business card into a pool of the man's blood, opened the door with a loud creak, and left.

_**~Will to Kill~**_

Alfred F. Jones threw himself into the elevator of the Honda Body Guard Office and pressed the button for the fifth floor. A bell dinged his arrival, and he stepped out, rather triumphantly.

"Jones! What the hell? We need you to guard this rich business man-"

"Sorry, no-can-do, Elizaveta. Dump it on Ludwig or something," Alfred said, searching his messy desk for his wallet.

"What?" the Hungarian woman replied, shocked. "You're always usually up for a new case. What's up with you, Al?"

Alfred found his wallet and looked up, beaming madly. Elizaveta knew that look.

"Kirkland?"

Alfred's face fell. "Does _everyone _know now?"

"It's not that hard to tell, Jones," Elizaveta chuckled, and all of a sudden, Feliciano came out.

"Alfred's got the hoooots! Alfred's got the hoooots!" he sang cheerily, dragging the word "hots". Alfred rolled his eyes.

"Ludwig!" Alfred called, and the German came out of his office.

"Ja?"

"Get your boyfriend under control, please! I'm going out," he said. Elizaveta smiled.

"Have a good time! Remember; Kirkland is the _only _reason you may slack off from work, understand?" she called. Alfred turned to her before the elevator door opened and gave her a thumbs up. Then he threw himself into the elevator and was gone.

Seconds later, Kiku showed up.

"Was that Alfred-san?" he asked, frowning. "He's got a job tonight."

"We're dumping it on Ludwig," Elizaveta told her friend, and Ludwig silently seethed at the thought of not being consulted about the matter.

"Why? Alfred is our best man!" Kiku pointed out, and Elizaveta shrugged.

"Yes, but he's got a date tonight."

Silence passed over the two of them.

"Kirkland," Kiku sighed. Elizaveta nodded cheerily, then held up her camera.

"Some good can come out of this," she told him. Kiku turned to her, and laughed.

"Yes," he said. "Some yaoi, and information on the assassins."

Elizaveta was then silent, before reaching out and clamping her hand on his shoulder. "You..don't think he's using him, do you?"

Kiku shrugged. "I believe Alfred to be a sincere man."

Elizaveta nodded. That was what she wanted to believe. "Me, too."

"Let's pray this doesn't end badly."

_**~Will to Kill~**_

Arthur Kirkland stepped into HQ. Okay, it wasn't exactly Head Quarters; it was more like Francis's house. But all of the assassin's stayed there, anyway, because it was huge and most had nowhere else to go.

He threw his trench coat onto the floor and began making his way up to his room. That was when he was stopped by both Gilbert and Francis.

"Hey, Artie! Wanna watch-"

"No."

"Well, then-"

"I sad 'no'!" he spat at the two of them, shoving past them and trying to make his way into his room. Francis rose an eyebrow.

"Did you murder Todd?" he asked, leaning against the railling of the stairs. Arthur turned around.

"Yes," he said. "I've just got somewhere else to go tonight."

"I don't remember you having another case," Gilbert replied, smirking. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"It's nothing. I'm just meeting Jones. That's it," Arthur spat. Francis and Gilbert gave each other 'looks' and whistled.

"Jones, eh?" Gilbert laughed. Arthur grimaced.

"You've got a date with him, _mon ami_?" Francis asked, smiling.

"It is _not _a _date_," Arthur growled. "We are enemies."

Gilbert's red eyes flashed. "Then, if it's not a date, and you're enemies...," he stepped up the stairs and leaned in towards Arthur. Arthur visibly stiffened. "See what kinda info. you can get of him, yeah? He's one of them do-gooder bodyguards workin' for Honda, right?"

Arthur's eyes darkened, and he nodded.

"Then see what you can find out," Gilbert chuckled. "And maybe...maybe we can kill him and his goody two-shoes friends. Sound like a plan, Kirkland?"

Arthur didn't know what made him shove Gilbert away from him and slam the door behind him. He immediately went to his bed and shoved his face in the pillows.

It was scary being an assassin.

It was scary to lose your parents.

It was scary to see blood every day, and be enticed by it.

It was scary. _He_...was scary

But the scariest thing, by far, was that...no matter how high on the enemy status he was with Alfred F. Jones, he absolutely _despised _Gilbert's idea.

_**~Will to Kill~**_

**Yay! Done-ness!**

**...Yeah, I'm making this a chaptered story. Be happy. :)**

**But thanks to you all. I'm doing this because I love you and I don't want you to be sad. ;)**

**THIGH SHEATHS RULE,**

**Blank Paiges XD**


	3. Operation: A Typical Date

**Merry Christmas, everyone! I hope everyone had a good one! :D**

**And here is my gift to y'all! **

_**Chapter 3: Operation: A Typical Date**_

Arthur had eventually gotten control of himself, pulled himself off of his sheets, sat up straight, and sighed mournfully. Gilbert actually wasn't that bad of a guy, really. He was just a wee bit...egotistical. And loud. He really shouldn't let the gruesome idea he had given him affect him.

Arthur sighed, and then remembered that he had a place to be. He flipped his head around to look at the nightstand behind him. The clock read 7:50. The British assassin began to question his sanity once again.

Why had he agreed to this? Dinner with _Alfred, _of all people?

_We don't go together at all, _he thought sullenly, getting up and pulling off his black-clad assassin's outfit and rummaging around in his closet for something that a normal person would wear. _Alfred is a bodyguard, and I am an assassin. He's undeniably someone that could have me arrested as soon as my back is turned._

Arthur let out a satisfied cry of, "Ah!" as he found something decently normal to wear. A green T-shirt that had the imprint of the British flag on it, and some black jeans. He sighed. It would have to do.

_But those eyes, _Arthur's thoughts intruded again. He found himself detesting how much his thoughts seemed to be intruding recently. _For some reason...I don't think I want him to be lying to me._

As soon as Arthur was changed, he sighed for the umpteenth time that day and banged his head against a nearby wall. _Stupid, _he thought. _Alfred is a __**bodyguard. **__I am an a__**ssassin. **__Two totally different paths. There is no bloody way we can be friends._

Ironically, spontaneously, and really quite randomly, the song "Why Can't We Be Friends?" blasted itself from Gilbert's room, interrupting Arthur's train of thought. Arthur groaned aloud and banged his fist on the wall to the right of him.

"Gilbert, knock it off!" he shouted so that the albino on the other side of the wall would be able to hear him.

"Whatever, Arthur!" came his reply. Arthur groaned, then grabbed his black backpack and headed down the stairs. He put on a pair of sneakers and grabbed his trench coat off of the floor. Instinctively, he also checked if his grenades were still safely tucked in his pocket, and then scolded himself for being so used to the routine.

"I'm going out, Francis! Be back in a while," Arthur called before opening the huge door and then closing it behind him. He took in the fresh air, and then began his walk.

_**~Save You From Yourself~**_

"_Alfred, I don't want you letting your guard down too much," _Kiku told Alfred through the phone, and the American nodded his consent with a roll of his eyes. "_I know how amazing you think Kirkland is, but he's the best assassin in all of London."_

"And I'm the best bodyguard. We're perfect for each other," Alfred gushed, and Kiku, on the other end of the line, face-palmed.

_"As you've told me for the past, what...two months now," _Kiku reminded the American, and Alfred chuckled.

"Look, I've got this totally under my control," he reassured his Japanese friend. "See ya when I get back."

"_Be careful!"_

"I will, I will. Bye," Alfred said pressed the "End Call" button, and happily placed his cell phone in the pocket of his bomber jacket.

_Remember, be the gentleman, _Elizaveta had told him. _Arthur may be an assassin, but he's a hopeless romantic, I can tell. Flowers may help, too._

Alfred sighed. He hadn't been able to get flowers, but he hoped that all of his courting-ritual lessons with Elizaveta would pay off.

He hopped on his feet a little bit when he reached the front of McDonald's. He would never admit that he-the most confident bodyguard in the universe-was actually nervous. Hell, no.

"What the bloody hell are you doing now?"

Alfred gasped slightly and widened his eyes, whipping his head around to look at the British assassin that had suddenly appeared behind him. He smiled his trademark smile and scratched the back of his head.

"Oh, hey," Alfred laughed. "What's up?"

"The sky," Arthur dead-panned, "then the atmosphere. Then space and the solar system. Then the universe. Then whatever the hell's above that."

Alfred allowed himself a chuckle at the Brit's dry humor. Then he grew serious. "You don't believe in heaven?"

There was a flicker behind Arthur's eyes, before they grew the same dark, unreadable shade of green they always were. "I'm bound for hell anyway," he said before pushing past the American into the fast-food restaurant.

Alfred blinked, sighed, and then followed suit. The two took a seat in the back. Arthur removed his trench coat and placed it over the chair before taking a seat. Alfred took a seat opposite him.

"So, why?"

Alfred paused to blink at the Brit in front of him. "Huh?"

"Why invite me, your arch-nemesis, to spend dinner with you?" he asked. "Don't you have friends of your own that _don't _murder on a daily basis? I just murdered someone tonight and you were there."

Alfred paused to contemplate this question a bit, then he shrugged. "I told you that I like you." Arthur flushed a deep red at this statement, and then looked away.

"Hilarious," was all he could say.

"It's true hilarity," Alfred said, smiling. "So, what do you wanna eat?"

"W_ant to_," Arthur corrected, "the correct term of speech is _want to. _Bloody hell."

"All right, chill, chill," Alfred laughed. "I'll choose for you." And before Arthur could protest, Alfred was already bounding up to the counter. The British assassin sighed as he stared at Alfred's back.

_He's just so naturally popular, _he thought and frowned as he watched as a crowd already began to form around the American bodyguard. _Unlike me. With a light like that, I'm sure that someone like me would be extinguished._

"Excuse me?" came a sudden small voice, interrupting his thoughts. Arthur craned his neck to gaze at the little girl that had suddenly appeared next to him.

An infrequent, gentle, and warm smile came across the assassin's face. "How may I help you?"

The little girl held up a cup. "Will you help me get lemonade? My mommy is busy," she explained, gesturing to her mother typing on a laptop nearby. Arthur smiled.

"Of course," Arthur said, walking over to the drink booth and grabbing some lemonade for the little girl. He leaned down and handed it to her.

"There you go," he said, and she smiled.

"Thank you, sir!" she cried, then ran back to her mother.

Arthur smiled after her.

"You're surprisingly good with kids, Artie," came a voice from behind. Arthur then gasped and stood up, turning around to face Alfred.

"Whatever," Arthur said, face red. Alfred smiled as they walked back to their table.

"No, I'm just saying," Alfred began, "that it's surprising that you are so good with 'em. Most of those little guys hate my guts." Alfred began unwrapping his cheeseburger and took a bite. "It's cute, knowing you're a murderer," he said in-between bites.

Arthur flushed a deep red once again. "I said whatever! ...Erm, what did you get?" Alfred held up a happy meal box, and Arthur rolled his eyes.

"I'm not a bloody child, Alfred!" Arthur began, but stopped as soon as he saw the unicorn plushy inside of it. He carefully took it out of the plastic and looked at it, dumbstruck.

Alfred licked some grease off of his fingers. "Oops," he said, "I must have gotten the girl's toy. I can return it if you want." But it turned out that the Brit in front of him was paying no attention. He was staring at the unicorn.

"Um...Artie?"

Arthur continued to stare. Then, he raised the unicorn high up in the air, and then brought it down again.

"Ar-Arthur?"

Arthur brought the unicorn to his chest and looked up at Alfred.

"Thank you," the British man said softly, and Alfred blushed, blinked, and then beamed.

"You-you like unicorns?" Alfred asked, and Arthur nodded.

"I love them," he said, poking and prodding at the plush toy in his hands. Alfred couldn't help but find this quite adorable.

Alfred laughed. "That's-that's adorable! So cute!"

Arthur rolled his eyes and began to eat his nuggets. After the whole unicorn incident, the two began to talk endlessly-their likes and dislikes, their sorrows and their joys, their strengths and their weaknesses. Their guards were left completely down, and Arthur felt himself loosening up.

After about half an hour, Arthur began to notice something strange. He rose one bushy eyebrow at two people behind Alfred, dressed in black. He didn't make eye contact with them, however.

But he knew they were suspicious. Very, very suspicious.

First off, it was freezing outside. Why wouldn't they come inside, where it was warm? And second of all-black suits and sunglasses? Oh, please. An amatuer could have labelled these guys as suspicious.

"Alfred..."

"...I see them," Alfred said, taking a sip of his coke and not looking up. Arthur did not make any eye contact with the ones behind Alfred, either-since Alfred could see them as well, there must have been two behind him as well.

"Listen to me, Artie," Alfred began, and Arthur finished his food, placing them into the happy meal box, and clutching the unicorn to his heart. "I'm gonna count to three. On the count of three, we attack."

Arthur nodded, and he took a sip of his water.

"One..."

Alfred finished his food and miraculously tossed his food into a nearby trash can.

"Two..."

Arthur did the same, making sure his unicorn was still with him.

"Three!"

Alfred and Arthur pushed their seats away and jumped onto the table. Alfred took out his two handguns, and Arthur drew his grenades in his trench coat pocket. The American worked quickly, firing shots at the two people in front of him, who were, by now, shooting back at him. Windows shattered, people screamed.

Arthur worked just as quickly, throwing grenades at the two in front of him, so as to cloud them. He dodged the bullets coming at him, and then pulled his knives out of the holder in his trench coat, throwing them with expert precision at the two men's right legs. Those two cried out in pain, slumping to the ground, clutching their legs.

Alfred turned around to Arthur. "Grenades on this side, Kirkland!" Arthur turned around and shot two at the men in front of Alfred, and Alfred finished them off with an equally precise shot to their left legs.

"Now would be a good time to leave," Arthur yelled over the commotion, and the two ran out the door, leaped on the top of a building, and were gone.

_**~A Typical Date~**_

"God, that was amazing!" Alfred laughed as they stopped on a building farther away from McDonald's. "We make a pretty good team, don't you think? Man!" The American chuckled and sat on the roof's ledge, and Arthur followed suit, painting heavily.

Arthur hated to admit it, but Alfred was right. They had been exceptional together back there. "I suppose you're right."

"I guess this would be a typical get-together in our lives, huh?" Alfred said, runnins a hand through his hair. Arthur nodded, then gasped as he felt around his chest.

"The-the unicorn!" he moaned. "I must have lost it in the crossfire!" Arthur sighed.

Alfred widened his eyes, and then saw something poking out of the Brit's pocket. "Hey, is that it?" he asked, pointing to the unicorn portruding from Arthur's pocket. Arthur gasped and took it out, hugging it near him. The two sat in a companionable silence for a while, before Arthur broke it.

"Well, I must be on my way, then," Arthur stammered, standing. He brushed some dust and snow off of his coat.

"I hate to say it, but I had a wonderful night, Alfred. Thank you," he said. Alfred beamed and stood up as well.

"No problem!" the American laughed. "I had a great time, too...with, er, you." The two fell into silence again, before Arthur laughed.

"Well, thanks again for this, Alfred!" Arthur smiled, and then his face faltered for a bit before moving in to kiss him on the cheek. Alfred's eyes widened, and before he could say anything, Arthur was bounding from building-to-building, going to wherever his home was.

Alfred could barely make out the Brit's departing words. "Good night, Jones!"

The American felt his heart racing against his chest, and he smiled happily, touching his cheek with his right hand.

"Good night...Kirkland."

_**~A Typical Date~**_

Kiku sighed and rubbed his temples. The date had gone well, he had to give Alfred that-but now there was something worse. How could Alfred just brush off being attacked like that? This wasn't normal!

Kiku needed some white rice. Or maybe some anime. Or maybe Heracles.

Frankly, he preferred the latter.

Kiku snapped out of his worries when the telephone rang. His hands reached out to it, as if wondering if he should answer it, and then picked it up.

"Hello?"

"_I hope you enjoyed our little fireworks show with one of your boys," _the voice on the other end said, and his eerie voice sent shivers up the Japanese man's spine.

"Who-who is this?" he asked.

"_This is only the beginning," _the voice said, and Kiku felt an anger he could not explain welling up in his stomach,

"Who is this? I don't know who you are, but if you ever hurt one of my employees, I will _never _forgive you! Who are-?"

_**Click.**_

_**Beep.**_

_**Beep. **_

_**Beep.**_

_**~A Typical Date~**_

Francis stared down at the phone in his hands in shock, and then put it down. He rubbed his temples and sighed.

_Someone's out to get the assassins._

This thought was very disturbing in and out of itself. Suddenly, the phone rang a second time and Francis answered it without hesitation.

"Who are you?" he hissed.

"_It's me, Kiku Honda. I've been compromised, as have you."_

Francis calmed. Although he wasn't on the best terms with the bodyguards, it was still better than that creepy voice.

"What is it?"

_"I think we are going to have to put aside our differences for a while," _Kiku began, and Francis leaned forward to listen more intently. "_You probably know the gravity of this situation, since they attacked both Jones and Kirkland in the open."_

Francis nodded. "_Oui. _Why are you calling me?"

Kiku sighed. Was he really about to do this?

"_I think...the assassins and the bodyguards are going to have to form an alliance."_

_**~A Typical Date~**_

**It was fluffy and had corny action. I cannot begin to name how many things are wrong with this chapter.**

**Oh well...**

**Review, please! No flames~! They are mean! 3**

**Merry Christmas,**

**Blank Paiges :)**


	4. Operation: Alliance

***MEGA GLOMPS ALL OF YOU***

**I love you all! Do you know how powerful reviews are? Seriously! Thanks so much!**

**Anyway, enough of me. On to the story! :D And I'm so sorry that it's shorter than usual... :(**

_**Chapter 4: Operation: Alliance**_

_Crap! _Arthur thought as he bounded from rooftop-to-rooftop, his footsteps making light indentations in the snow. _Crap, crap, crap! What the bloody hell did I just __**do**__?_

The British assassin groaned out loud as he reached the roof of Francis's house. He then sighed, kicked the roof beneath him, and jumped off, landing on his feet. _I kissed __**Alfred, **__of all people. On the cheek. I am such an __**idiot**__!_

He shoved the intrusive thoughts out of his head and opened the door to HQ. Arthur ran a hand through his tousled hair and sighed, going to place his trench coat on a nearby hook. When his coat was already hung on the hook, Francis came bounding into the room, the entire body of assassins trailing behind him. Arthur rose a bushy eyebrow.

"Francis?" Arthur questioned. "What are you doing?"

Francis seemed rather frantic as he gathered his coat and shoes, and the other assassins did the same. "Too much to explain, _mon ami, _" the Frenchman insisted. He waved his hand to the Brit's coat. "Put that on, Arthur, we're going out." Arthur groaned. He really did not feel like going out at the moment-especially after that kiss.

_As amazing as it was, _his thoughts intruded. Arthur face-palmed and sighed.

"Where to?" Arthur asked, going to grab his coat anyway.

"Explanations later," Antonio cut in, "evacuations _now. _It is not safe here anymore, Arthur."

_**~Alliance~**_

Alfred came back to the Honda Bodyguard Office feeling absolutely giddy. He practically skipped to the elevator. When he was on his floor, he walked happily back to his desk and checked if there were any notes on his computer. There was one-a yellow post-it note with blue markage on it. The bodyguard recognized it as his brother Matthew's handwriting.

"_Come to the meeting room as soon as you're back, Alfred! It's really important! ~Matthew."_

Alfred shrugged, pocketing the note in his bomber jacket's pocket and making his way into the meeting room. He opened the door, and then closed it behind him.

"All right, guys, what's this about?" he asked, back still facing the Meeting Room.

"I don't know, you tell me," came a voice that the American did not recognize. Alfred whipped his head around to stare at the huge Meeting Room, which was currently filled with all of the bodyguards working under Kiku Honda...as well as every single assassin working under Francis Bonnefoy.

"What the hell?" Alfred asked. "What are the assassins doing here?"

Arthur snapped, "And you think we would be gathered here to kill all of you, do you?"

"Arthur!" Alfred smiled for a brief instant, unable to mask his joy at seeing the Brit, before frowning bitterly. "Fine then, _you _tell _me _what your guys are doing here."

The British assassin folded his arms. "Actually, I still don't know what we are doing here. We've been waiting for _you_."

The American bodyguard rose an eyebrow. "Well, excuse me for being late. I failed to realize that we were having a meeting."

"Consider yourself excused," Arthur shot back, but Elizaveta stood up and held her hands up, silencing the bickering American and Brit.

"Easy, you two! There are more important things here than your little lovers' spat," Elizaveta scolded the two, but inside, she was cheering for the little tsundere explosion fight. _Jackpot!_

At this statement, Alfred and Arthur blushed a deep red and shut up.

Kiku nodded. "Thank you, Elizaveta. Alfred, please sit down." Alfred reluctantly obliged, sitting in his seat which was, uncomfortably, next to Arthur.

The entire meeting room was silent for some time, before Kiku continued. "Today, Alfred-san and Arthur-san were attacked at McDonald's on a casual day out."

"Casual day out, my ass," Gilbert cut in. Kiku gave the Prussian a pointed glare before proceeding with his explanation.

"We don't know who attacked them, yet. But we-meaning both Francis and I-received a call from the attackers just moments ago. Francis-san?"

"_Oui, _" Francis said, finishing brushing his hair and putting the comb away. "The call stated that the attack on Jones and Kirkland was only the beginning, and that they are not targeting the assassins, and they are not attacking the bodyguards-rather, they are attacking _both _of us."

Silence descended upon the Meeting Room. Alfred made eye contact with Arthur for a brief second, but even in that one second, they both knew what the other was thinking: _Oh, shit._

"So...what are you saying?" Matthew, in the back, piped up, hugging his polar bear Kumajirou to his chest.

A couple people said "Who?" and "Where'd that voice come from?", but Francis stared straight at the Canadian, as if a revelation had just been revealed before his very eyes. And then, blinking and regaining his composure, he took a deep breath and announced:

"The assassins and the bodyguards are going to have to make an alliance. At least...for the time being, until we can defeat this...monstrosity that has plagued us."

Utter silence filled the Meeting Room. Then it exploded. Literally.

Alfred and Arthur were the first to stand up.

"I'm not working with him!" They both declared, one pointing at the other.

"How are we going to get along with them?" Someone else shouted.

"This is going to fail! I just know it!" moaned another.

Kiku raised a silent hand to shut everyone up. Then, he said, "I know it sounds crazy everyone, and I apologize. But Francis and I have come to an agreement that we are not so different, and we can defeat these men."

Arthur sighed and placed a hand on his hip."'Not so different'? In what way, exactly?"

Kiku sighed. "You're really in no place to say that, Arthur," he said, smiling knowingly, "considering your _special relationship_ with Jones."

Arthur's face flared and he yelled, "We are in no such relationship!" at the same time Alfred yelled, "Kiku, what the hell?"

Everyone in the room smirked. These two were so predictable.

Francis cleared his throat. "Kiku has been kind enough to allow us to stay in the Bodyguard Office, since my house is no longer safe. The only reason Kiku's is is because he actually has the money to tighten security, and his office is more or less isolated. Kiku will have one of his servants show you to your rooms."

"If you have any questions, feel free to ask either one of us," Kiku told them. "You are excused. Alfred and Arthur, please remain here." Those present in the room simply mumbled and sighed their mutual consent before leaving, making Alfred, Arthur, Kiku, Francis, and Matthew the only ones present in the Meeting Room.

Matthew walked up to Francis and held out his hand as soon as most of the people dispersed. "I am Matthew Williams," he said as Francis took his hand and shook it. "I just thought I should introduce myself, considering I may have to be working rather closely with you."

"Francis Bonnefoy," the French assassin introduced himself, smiling.

Matthew nodded. "Well, then, I suppose I'll be on my way. Kiku wants me to do some research on those guys. Nice meeting you."

Francis nodded, and Matthew ran out of the Meeting Room. Kiku sighed and rolled his eyes.

"_Mon Dieu, _I think I am in love."

Arthur snickered. "That's a first."

Kiku cleared his throat and Alfred and Arthur turned to him. "You two, I want you to be extra careful, all right? I know I sound like a parent, but nowhere is safe for us anymore."

Alfred and Arthur nodded, and Kiku excused them. The two then left the room, and once they were out of the room, Arthur sighed and leaned against the door of the Meeting Room. Alfred pressed two fingers to his nose and sighed as well.

"So, now what?" Alfred asked, and Arthur shrugged.

"I can't believe this," the Brit said before getting up to glare at the American.

Alfred shrugged. "What I do?"

"No, it's just...nothing," he said, then pulled out a card Francis had given him when they were rushing to the Bodyguard Office. "I'm staying in Room 103A on the sixth floor. God, this is like a hotel, I thought this was a bodyguard office."

Alfred laughed. "Yeah, Kiku takes in people that have talent. He took _me _in and I had nowhere to go. Most of us are like that." Arthur blinked and withdrew. _I must remember that I know nothing about him, _the Brit recalled, _and I have no right to judge him beforehand._

"So, what room did you say?" Alfred asked. "I'll take you there."

"Uh, Room 103A," Arthur said. The American assassin laughed.

"Room 103A, did you say? Don't be retarded, that's my room," the American replied. Arthur handed the bodyguard his card, and his incessant laughing ceased.

"Oh, crap," he said, "we must be sharing rooms." _Shit!_

Arthur blinked. "You're joking."

Alfred shook his head no. "Oh well."

"'Oh well'?" the Brit all but screamed. "This place is huge! I shouldn't have to share a room!"

Alfred shrugged. "Kiku runs things around here," he said, "and whatever he does is for the greater good." Arthur mumbled something along the lines of "greater good, my arse" but reluctantly followed Alfred to wherever the hell his room was.

_**~Alliance~**_

Matthew sat typing away at his computer into the late hours of the night. He rubbed his eyes sleepily, and continued his searches. Kiku had been right-the voice on the telephone was enough to send shivers up Godzilla's spine. He listened to it again, and the computer for the thousandth time tried to find a match.

Then, a message popped up on-screen, and Matthew re-adjusted his glasses in interest. He read the message, and then re-read it.

"_Match found._"

He typed in a little bit more, and read the results of the test. Matthew blinked and reached for Kumajirou, who crawled into his lap obligingly. He had been scared by the voice constantly replaying itself in the room, too. Matthew pet his polar bear softly, running dainty fingers through silky white fur.

"Shhh, Kuma, shh," he hushed, and reread the results.

_Oh, maple, _Matthew thought, scared but hiding behind a veneer of calm. _Who knew he could become so naughty!_

_**~Alliance~**_

***sigh* Crappy...oh well.**

**Next chapter will be a bit more action-y, hopefully. This chapter was meant for explaining pretty much; I'll try to make a more exciting chapter next time...*sniffle* I sowwy!**

**LoveHateLove,**

**Blank Paiges :( **


	5. Operation: The Kol

**Hi, guys. Sorry, my head hurts like hell right now...did I update yesterday? I don't think I did...God, I'm sorry...**

**But thanks for all the reviews! They make me happy...ha..my mom was just being an abusive bee-yotch yesterday, nothing new, I'm fine! Hehe!**

**Anyway, story! :D I gave you a long one!**

_**Chapter 5: Operation: The Kol**_

The good news was that Room 103A was huge. Spacious. Vast. You could fit an elephant or two in it-it was that huge.

The bad news was that there was one bed-and it was a bit on the small side.

After Arthur finished taking in the room, he noticed all of his assassin's equipment set at the foot of the bed. He smiled for a brief second. "That Honda's prepared," Arthur commented, diligently checking if all of his equpment was indeed in the large black bag. Alfred nodded.

"Yeah," he said, "Kiku's like that."

After Arthur had finished checking his belongings, he stood up and took in the room once again. Only one bathroom-typical. _Don't worry about that right now, _a voice reminded the Brit. _The issue is the bed. _

"Now, where am I to sleep?" Arthur asked, turning to Alfred, maintaining his composure perfectly. Alfred shrugged.

"In the bed, I guess," he said, "considering you're the visiting team." Alfred swore that as soon as this was settled, he was going to throttle the life out of Kiku.

Arthur blinked. "And you...?"

Alfred shrugged both shoulders this time. "Uh, on the floor, naturally." He knew that if he were to share a bed with Arthur, he would never be able to hold back.

Some part of Arthur didn't wanted to be the damsel in distress. "I think not!" he spat, placing a hand on his hip and looking very much like Feliks when someone refused him a skirt on Sale Day at the mall.

The American smirked, leaning against the doorframe. "Then where do _you_ want me to sleep, Kirkland?" Arthur blushed. There was something about the way Alfred said that...

"In the bed, naturally," Arthur said, gathering his things and finding a decent spot on the floor. "While _I _sleep on the floor." Alfred blinked and grabbed the Brit on his way to the spot he had picked out on the floor.

"Hell, no," Alfred murmured. "I'm not letting you sleep on the floor."

"Alfred," Arthur scolded, "I am perfectly capable of caring for myself; I will be fine on the floor." Alfred pouted. _Bloody hell, _Arthur thought, distressed. _He's just like a child. I wonder if he was actually like this as a child. Probably was. _Then, the Brit mentally kicked himself. _Like I would know anything about that git's childhood!_

"You shouldn't sleep on the floor!" Alfred complained. "You'll get back pain or something! Seriously, it hurts!" Arthur blinked, then searched his mind for a way to turn the conversation in his favor.

"You sound as if you _want _me in bed with you, Jones," Arthur commented quizically. Alfred blushed a fiery red, and soon afterwards, so did Arthur.

"I..er...it's not like that, man! I just...your...the floor..."

"That came out wrong! I didn't mean it like...I mean, I...God, that isn't what I meant!"

"It's fine! It's fine!"

"Um...okay? Er...sorry..."

A complete silence descended upon the two, before Alfred broke it.

"We'll both sleep in the bed, then," Alfred stated. Arthur, face still red, nodded. The American sighed in relief and went to take off his bomber jacket and put it on a hook. Arthur took off his trench coat and did the same, then carried his large black bag to the foot of the bed. The Brit turned and looked at the clock on the nightstand.

10:45 PM.

They had just spent forty-five minutes arguing over where they would sleep.

Arthur face-palmed and fell backwards onto the bed, sighing. _Stupid me!_

~**_Operation: The Kol~_**

Matthew burst into Kiku's office-it was now 11:00 PM. He had been working well past his shift.

"Mr. Honda!" Wait a second. He wasn't on duty at the moment, was he? "Kiku!" Matthew turned over Kiku's office-the Head Bodyguard was nowhere to be found. The Canadian felt like sobbing out of both fear and lack of maple syrup for the past four hours. "Kiku, where are you?"

"Mathieu?" a voice came from the doorway of Kiku's office. A French voice. Matthew sighed in relief and turned around to face Francis, who was leaning against the doorframe.

"Francis-er, Mr. Bonnefoy!" Matthew practically screamed, scurrying up to the taller man. He held up the results of the test he had run. "These are the results of the Voice Comparison Scan." Francis blinked before taking the papers in his hand. The Frenchman looked over the paper curiously, then skimmed through it again, and then re-read it a third time. Matthew grew fidgety before Francis said,

"Meeting in the morning. This is more serious than I thought."

_**~Operation: The Kol~**_

Arthur woke up the next morning feeling warm. Feeling lazy, he didn't bother with opening his eyes and wrapped his arms even tighter around his pillow, enjoying the feeling of its steady rising and falling...

_Hang on a second_, Arthur thought, opening his eyes_. Rising and falling?_

He stifled a groan as he found that his "pillow" had turned out to be Alfred. Arthur had had his arms wrapped around the American bodyguard; he tried not to think about how perfectly his arms fit around him. What was worse was that one of Alfred's arms was wrapped around Arthur's waist, and Arthur's head was resting on the crook of Alfred's left arm. The British assassin attempted to break away, but the American git was just too strong.

_Damn_, Arthur thought, unconsciously burying his head in Alfred's chest. "I _just _knew something like this would happen." Arthur attempted to pull away from Alfred once again, but it was no use and half-hearted. "You are such a fat pig. Lose some weight so I can at least move out from under you in the morning. Stupid git."

Suddenly, Arthur heard a sort of stifled laughter, and un-buried his head from Alfred's chest to look up at the American, who was laughing silently with his eyes closed. "I had a dream that you were insulting my weight," the American chuckled, opening his eyes to reveal two deep pools of blue.

"Guess it wasn't a dream."

"Oh, _shut up!_" Arthur shouted into Alfred's chest, attempting to break away again. "It's morning! Let me go!"

Alfred just held the assassin closer, snickering at his shrieks and cries of protest. "I dun' wanna...," he drawled.

Arthur stopped and banged his head against Alfred's chest in frustration. "God, I hate you," he mumbled. Then he looked up. "How the hell did we end up in this position?"

Alfred shrugged and laughed. "...I don't know. We stayed as far apart from each other as we could last night. Now look where we are."

Arthur nodded. "Will you let me go now?"

The American sighed. "Fine," he said, releasing Arthur, who rose up from the bed, breathing rather dramatically.

"Thank God!" he yelled, triuphantly raising his hands in the air. "You nearly killed me!" At this, Alfred smiled and tackled the Brit down again, successfully pinning him down.

"Take that back!" he demanded laughingly, while Arthur tried to squirm out from under him, laughing as well. "I'm not that fat!"

Arthur turned his head to the right. "...Never..." Alfred rose an eyebrow.

"Take it back, Arthur..."

"No."

"Arthur..."

Alfred smiled, and somehow, seeing the American smile made Arthur smile as well. Alfred and Arthur didn't even realize the distance closing between then, until...

"Alfred! Arthur! Team Meeting now-holy _shit!_" Matthew, Francis, and Elizaveta had just burst into the room-Elizaveta's last comment was directed at the almost-but-not-quite-first-kiss that she had just interrupted. She quickly ran and hid in a corner, sobbing into a handkerchief. _I hate me!_

Alfred and Arthur, realizing their position, quickly parted. "What?" they asked simultaneously. Matthew was blushing a deep red, wondering just what kind of antics his brother and Kirkland had gotten into last night.

Sensing his worry, Alfred turned to his brother and mouthed, "Nothing happened...yet", and Matthew sighed in relief. He wasn't really sure if he was mentally prepared when they finally did go at it, though.

"Team Meeting in ten," Francis said, smirking at Arthur, who glared daggers at the Frenchman. "Be there. It's important!"

The three exited the room and closed the door. Arthur then sighed and buried his head in a pillow. "God, I hate you...Francis will never let me hear the end of this..." Alfred shrugged.

"Neither will my brother," he chuckled, "so we're even."

The two then got up and began preparing themselves for the Meeting.

**_~Operation: The Kol~_**

Kiku sighed and rubbed his temples as people began filing into the room. He looked up, and as soon as he was sure everyone was present, nodded and stood.

"Let us cut to the chase," he said. "Last night, Matthew-san, one of my bodyguards and by far one of the best hackers in the world, deciphered the 'code', so to speak. He found out who is threatening us." Matthew, finished blusing, nodded and grabbed a remote, turning on a television in the back of the room. He then pressed "play" and the eerie phone call replayed itself around the room. Everyone shivered.

"The one that is threatening us, as you know, is not a single person, but they do have a leader," Kiku continued. "He is the one that was on the phone."

The Japanese man took a moment to glance at his brother Yao, and took a deep breath, knowing how hard a blow this would be on his older sibling. Kiku then held out his hand and Francis placed a manila folder in them. Kiku threw the folder onto the table and its files spread, revealing the face-and files-of one man.

"One Ivan Braginsky," Kiku said hesitantly. "Good man. Good bodyguard."

"Good assassin, too," Francis noted bitterly.

The room was filled with silence.

Earlier, Ivan had been a comrade to everyone in the room. First, he had been a bodyguard-a good one, as Kiku had said. Then he broke a couple of rules. Got a bit out of control. Had some run-ins with the police. Then Honda kicked him off the squad.

He later became an assassin-something else he was very good at, as Francis had noted. But even assassination had a few rules. And he broke them. Injured his fellow assassins at times. Got out of control again. Then Bonnefoy kicked him off.

Kiku swallowed a huge lump in his throat and looked to his brother, who was clutching one of the files in his hands a little too tightly, fighting to keep his composure.

"I've been told you all knew him," the Japanese man continued. Solemn nods and mumbles of agreement circled the room.

"Good friend," Gilbert said. "Scary, but nice."

"Why would he...?" Antonio began, but found that he couldn't finish his sentence; he was so grieved. Lovino, in the back, made a mental note to kick Ivan's ass later.

"Turns out he now leads a gang known as the Kol," Francis explained, throwing out another manila folder.

"The Call?" Gilbert asked, scratching the back of his head.

"No, the _Kol,_" Francis explained.

"The Call?" Gilbert asked once again, his little chick pecking at the silver hairs on his head.

"He said _the Kol, _you twat!" Roderich shouted at the Prussian, setting his tea cup down with a clang and glaring daggers at him. Gilbert shut up afterwards. Arthur rose an eyebrow, amused_. I must ask him to tea some time._

Kiku cleared his throat. "Thank you, Roderich-san," he said, giving him a curt nod. "I am now turning over the conversation over to Matthew, who has the information on the Kol."

Matthew ignored the cries of "Who?" and cleared his throat. "It turns out that this group wasn't started too long ago. Last summer, actually," he began. "The Kol is hell bent on just being evil, basically. Robberies, random killings, that type of thing. They only just recently decided their new target...and that's us, eh."

Once again, utter silence. Francis then spoke up. "They know we are hiding out with Kiku. And they know they could never get past security here."

"...So they're targeting the ones we love," Kiku finished. "The ones totally uninvolved in this."

More silence.

"So it might be a good idea to get those you love here, too," Matthew added. "Before...you know, it's too late."

Yao was the first to stand up. He threw the files of Ivan onto the ground and began to storm out of the room, tearing up.

"Yao-"

"He's not a bad guy!" Yao choked out between sobs. He was just in front of the door, his hand grazing the doorknob.

"Yao...it's the truth. You need to-"

"Ivan isn't like that!" Yao repeated, turning to the room, his tears now visible. Alfred winced; he could never stand to see people cry. "I know it. Someone's gotta be controlling him, or..." The Chinese bodyguard wiped his cheek with his sleeve and Kiku winced as well-he should have known this was going to happen.

"None of you really knew him," Yao stated coldly. "None of you." He opened the door and exited the room, slamming it behind him.

Kiku sighed and a pained look graced his features for a brief millisecond. He then waved his hand in the air, indicating that they may leave. "You are dismissed. Warn your loved ones. Tell them to come here."

The room filed out quickly. Kiku rubbed his eyes and sighed, sitting in his chair.

When Wang Yao is emotionally compromised, you know something is wrong.

_**~Operation: The Kol~**_

Arthur hesitated, his hand hanging above the phone. He had lied to Alfred about having no one he cared about. He sighed and grabbed the phone, dialing the number. _Now or never._

The phone picked up after about five rings. "_'Ello?_"

"Peter?" Arthur asked, running a hand through his hair. He hadn't spoken to his little brother in years.

"_Arthur!_" the voice came, unreasonably excited. "_Jerk-Arthur!"_

Arthur chuckled. "Yes, yes, it's me." A pause. "I need you to do exactly as I tell you, Peter. Do you hear me? Grab Uncle, too."

There was a long pause before he heard his little brother's response.

"_What can I do?"_

**_~Operation: The Kol~_**

The Vargas brothers stood around the telephone, waiting for their grandfather to pick up.

"_Hello_?"

Feliciano was the first to speak up. "Grandpa Rome!" That was their nickname for him, when they had been younger. The reason was that he was as cool and powerful as the almighty ancient Rome. "Can you listen to our exact orders, please?"

_"Sure," _came their grandfather's response. "_What is it?"_

"Okay," Lovino said, breathing heavily. "Listen closely, _Nonno. _This is serious."

~**_Operation: The Kol~_**

Heracles picked up on the second ring, as usual.

"_Kiku?_" he asked. Kiku smiled at the response. He could hear cats in the distance and possibly something sizzling.

"...Hi," the Japanese man said, then sobbed into the phone, unable to contain himself any longer. Heracles, alarmed, put aside his cooking and focused instead on his partner.

"_Kiku? Kiku? What's wrong?"_

Kiku sniffled and wiped his nose, clutching the phone closer to his ear so tightly he thought he might break it. "...Tough day, Heracles," he sobbed. "Tough day."

Heracles, on the other end, nodded and turned off his stove. He began taking off his apron. "_You want me to come over there, don't you." _It was a statement, not a question. Kiku mumbled "yes".

"It's not safe at home for you anymore, Heracles," he said, his heart beating rapidly. "Please come here. I'm so scared." Heracles understood the gravity of the situation-Kiku was crying. That meant hell had just been let loose.

"_Okay," _said the Greek man, nodding. "_See you th-"_

Suddenly there was a loud noise, then an even louder noise. Kiku widened his eyes and clutched the phone even tighter as he heard cackling in the background and cats screeching.

"Heracles! Heracles!" Kiku cried, pressing a hand to his mouth. He fell to his knees and attempted to swallow. He felt like he was choking.

Finally, someone picked up. But it wasn't Heracles.

"_...I told you you'd be first."_

Kiku's blood ran cold.

**_Click._**

**_Beep. _**

**_Beep._**

**_Beep._**

**~_Operation: The Kol~_**

**I know. I'm a jerk. *shot***

**Lots of drama in this chapter-and I gave you a long one! I'm sorry...it had to end here. It was how I planned the story. :(**

**Anyway-sorry it took so long to upload this! I had to do a hell of a lot of work, plus my mother. **

**Anyway! I'm uber-excited! Have any of you seen, heard of, or watched "The Special Relationship"? I saw it at RedBox yesterday, but I couldn't get it because it comes out today! I'm getting it today! My older brother actually pointed it out to me because he wanted to watch my fangasm.**

**I love my older brother. XD**

**Well, enough of me. Reviews are love! Thanks!**

**LoveHateLove,**

**Blank Paiges XD**


	6. Operation: No More Mr Nice Guys

**I'M ALIVE! **

**...oh, and the movie "Special Relationship" rocked my world. If you watched the movie in USUK terms, it was hilarious. My favorite line was:**

**"There's something about those two countries working together that's almost...romantic." And:**

**"There's a certain kind of chemistry between our countries, you know?" xD**

**Well, enough of me. And here is chappie six...please review! Thanks, you're awesome!**

_**Chapter 6: Operation: No More Mr. Nice Guys**_

"...look, they just broke my leg. I'm fine, yeah?" Heracles was saying, petting one of his kitties that was currently seated on his lap. It was a black one, and he liked to think that it reminded him of Kiku. Kiku pursed his lips and wiped several more tears from his face.

"Yes, but...over the phone, it sounded so..._horrible_," Kiku finished sullenly, affectionately caressing Heracles's cheek. Heracles smiled, but it was tired, and there was no humor in it.

"But you're grateful that I'm fine, right?" Heracles asked. Kiku smiled.

"Of course," he said, taking Heracles's hand and placing it on his cheek. "Of course."

Kiku had been in a rage when they had reached his home-ordering everyone around like it was all he knew how to do. A few of his comrades were mentally scarred at seeing Kiku actually angry in his life. Kiku had freaked out upon seeing Heracles's battered state, but upon bringing him back to HQ, the doctors proclaimed that he was alright and only had a broken leg plus a mild headache-which was quite a relief in comparison to what Kiku had been thinking.

"This is all bollocks," Arthur sighed, running a hand through sandy blonde hair.

Alfred looked towards the Brit and sighed as well. "I know. I can't believe they would just go and try to murder someone like that," Alfred murmured, tugging at his bomber jacket.

Nearly all of the bodyguards, assassins, and staff were waiting just outside Heracles's medical room, his injury weighing heavily on their consciences. Even the ones that didn't even know who Heracles was were there-because the injury had been caused by Ivan, who was, after all, _everyone's_ business now.

Yao leaned against the closed door of the medical room and sighed, tugging at his black ponytail. "...He never went so far as picking up a gun, aru...," the Chinese bodyguard murmured silently.

Alfred looked up."Huh?" Alfred asked, but Yao waved it off.

"It's nothing."

Yao blinked and removed himself from the door as he felt it open. Kiku came out, but he didn't look like Kiku. He looked battered and torn and there were dark circles beneath his eyes. His eyes, always distant, looked even more distant now.

Alfred was the first to speak. "Kiku...you okay, man?"

Feliciano gulped as Kiku rose his head from the floor and his dark eyes flashed. The room jumped in surprise as Kiku pulled off the scariest smile they had ever seen in their lives-possibly even scarier than Ivan's had ever been.

"Well," said Kiku, reaching into the pocket of his uniform and pulling out a handgun. The Japanese man cocked it with a snicker. Again, he smiled that evil smile, making Feliciano hide behind Ludwig and Francis shake in his boots.

"That's it then. No more Mr. Nice Guy."

**_~Operation: No More Mr. Nice Guys~_**

Their remaining loved ones arrived without a hitch, and were all immediately shown to their rooms. Arthur felt awkward, being one of the only assassins that had a family he cared about, and he feared being teased by everyone. But seeing Peter and his uncle alright was clearly worth being teased.

Kiku called everyone up to the Meeting Room to discuss the assault on the Kol. Arthur sighed, rummaging around in his room for a handgun, and when he found it, pocketed it in his pocket. Alfred rose an eyebrow.

"No thigh sheaths today, then?"

"Shut up!" Arthur scolded him. "Make another joke about my thigh sheaths and you're toast."

"Fine, be that way," Alfred retorted, pouting.

The two made their way down to the Meeting Room, where Kiku had already gathered most of their allies. Kiku looked up, his eyes no longer distant, but sharp and agile-and motioned the British assassin and the American bodyguard into the room. The two went in and diligently seated themselves in their respective seats.

"Alright, then," Kiku began, clearing his throat and standing. "Now that everyone is present, I have formulated a plan in which we may defeat the Kol, before they hurt anyone else."

Everyone knew that the Kol-Ivan-had only hurt one person so far. But to Kiku, Heracles wasn't just "one person". He was the world.

"Antonio-san has just discovered where the Kol's HQ is," Kiku said, then turned the conversation over to the Spanish assassin. Antonio nodded and stood, fixing his tie and sending a wink over to Lovino, who threw a binder at his head.

"Alright, guys," he began, throwing a file onto the table, letting the papers spill out and spread themselves all over the table. Roderich sighed in irritation. Why couldn't these people just _pass out_ the papers, like ordinary human beings?

"The Kol hides out in some rich guy's house. Murdered him, I suppose," Antonio sighed and shook his head in pity. "Bad news is that they threatened the guards with murder if they didn't serve them, and serve them good. So security's pretty hyped up there."

"So...what?" Ludwig asked, hand stroking his chin, thinking. "What are we going to do?"

"We're gonna try and raid 'em," Antonio finished. Ludwig rose an eyebrow.

"But you just said that security was-"

"I know," Antonio nodded, raising his hand. "We're still working out the kinks." Ludwig nodded and placed a hand to Feliciano's back, who was by now shivering uncontrollably. The Italian calmed down, took a deep breath, and exhaled.

"What about an air raid?" Ludwig offered.

"They've got men watching the top of the building," Antonio said, then blinked.

"Hang on, let me give you a full explanation of its security." The room leaned in, as this was important information. Elizaveta took out a notepad and a pen and flipped to a clean page-one that wasn't totally filled with yaoi-like doodles.

The Spaniard took a deep breath in, and then began. "There are guards watching the outer gate of the house twenty-four-seven. They're your first case of troubles. You've also got video cameras-two, on every single gate, so that makes a total of eight just on the outside."

Arthur smirked and leaned back in his chair. He flipped his hair confidently. "Piece of cake. Get to the hard stuff." Alfred blinked, then mentally slapped himself. _Do **not** think about how awesome he just looked then!_

Antonio smirked at the Englishman. "I thought you'd say that," the Spaniard chuckled. He took another deep breath.

"After you get past the gate, the cameras, and the guards, you're gonna wind up on the grounds of the mansion. However, there are motion detectors inside of there, so we'll need someone to take those out."

"Got it," Feliks nodded, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind his ear.

Antonio nodded to the Pole, then continued. "Once those are taken out, the problem is the door."

"I'm guessing there's no doorbell," Alfred said, and a couple of giggles rose around the room. Antonio smiled.

"Well, there is, actually," he replied. "But I wouldn't recommend you ring it."

Alfred smiled and leaned back in his chair. "Fair enough."

The Spaniard laughed and then continued. "The door's got video cameras, but they don't see outwards onto the grounds. They only see you when you're on the doorstep. So we need someone to take those out-"

Yao held up his kunai, and Antonio nodded towards him.

"Good," he said. "Okay, so once those cameras are out, we're good. But we aren't entering from the door, obviously."

A couple snickers resounded.

"We shall be entering from the two windows that are diagonally above the door. Well, half of us," Antonio shrugged. "The other half will be going to the back and attempting to hack into their computer systems to shut down any of their remaining attacks they could throw at us. I will tell you which half you belong in later."

Ludwig rose his hand. "And Ivan?"

Yao, without thinking, spoke up. "We don't kill him. We take him with us."

Kiku whipped his head over to gaze at his older brother. "Yao..."

"I'll take care of Ivan," Yao said, turning his eyes towards Kiku. They were dark and had a powerful spark in them, as if telling Kiku to: "_Try and stop me._" At this, Kiku recoiled and sighed before nodding.

"Very well then."

"What do we do once we're inside?" Lovino, in the back, queried. Antonio smiled brilliantly at the Italian, who stuck his tongue out at him.

"One word," Antonio said, holding up a finger to prove his point. "Bomb."

Silence filled the room. Arthur smirked and leaned back in his chair, affectionately petting his gun. His emerald green eyes flashed.

"Mmm. _Bombs_," the Brit said, and got a far-off look in his eyes. "I like the sound of that."

"Well, I don't," Alfred insisted, turning to Arthur. "They may be bad guys, but there's always prison."

Arthur shot the American a dirty look and leaned forward. "Well, prison's for sissies who can't handle seeing blood."

Alfred leaned in even further, so that they were almost nose-to-nose. "Yeah well, killing's for even _sissier _sissies, because it makes them no better than whoever they're trying to kill...Arthur."

The Brit tilted his head. "You take that back."

"Why should I?" Alfred asked, tilting his head in the opposite direction. "Who said you controlled me?"

"Who said _you _controlled _me?_" Arthur asked, and leaned back in his chair, smirking lightly. Elizaveta rose an eyebrow and grabbed a tissue. _So much UST..._

"Guys, that's enough," Kiku said, rubbing his temples. "You know, maybe prison's not all that bad."

"Oh, what the hell!" Arthur moaned, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah," said Gilbert, "you goody-two-shoes take all the fun out of everything."

"Bombs are awesome!" Antonio added.

Kiku held up his hand and the room grew silent. "Fine. We'll use the bomb."

The assassins cheered and it was the bodyguards's turn to moan and complain loudly. Kiku then held up his hand again.

"_However,_" he began, and everyone was silent. "It won't be a powerful one, only enough to cause a riot and drive them outside, where the police will hopefully be waiting for them."

"And how do you know the police won't arrest us as soon as they see us?" Francis asked, folding his arms. "We _are _wanted in all fifty states, you know." It was an exaggeration, Arthur knew, but still. Jail was the last place he wished to see.

Kiku turned to the Frenchman. "Heracles is a police officer," he said. "Top-notch, too. He'll find a way for your group to get out of trouble." Francis nodded, satisfied.

The silence was almost deafening, before Feliciano piped up. "And when do we start, Kiku?" He seemed all too happy to begin, and Ludwig smiled at his enthusiasm.

"Tomorrow night," Kiku said, and everyone nodded their mutual agreement. To end the meeting, Alfred stood and offered one piece of advice:

"Let's give 'em hell."

**_~Operation: No More Mr. Nice Guys~_**

Arthur returned to Room 103A to ready himself for the battle tonight. So far, nothing extremely dangerous had happened. Besides the whole incident with Heracles, the Kol had remained pretty quiet...too quiet.

He couldn't help but think that there was something off about the way Ivan was doing this whole revenge thing. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but...something was just wrong.

A noise from the back of the room snapped Arthur out of his thoughts. Alfred came out of the restroom, hair wet from a recent shower, and wearing jeans and a blue "USA" t-shirt.

Arthur avoided the obvious joke.

"Preparing?" the American asked, his arms folded, leaning against the door frame of the bathroom.

"Yes," Arthur said, then his arms faltered, dropping his weaponry on the floor near his knees. Alfred blinked, surprised, and sat down cross-legged next to the British object of his affections.

"Careful," Alfred scolded lightly, taking the two knives and placing them back in the black bag. "You could hurt yourself." Then, he noticed that Arthur was looking off into the distance, as if he wasn't paying any attention at all.

"Kirkland...?"

"Arthur," the Brit said, turning to face the American with those gorgeous green eyes of his. "It's okay...if you call me Arthur." Alfred smiled.

"Awesome, thanks," he said. Then, genuine concern overtook him again. "Now, what's wrong?" Arthur leaned back on his hands.

"Don't you think there's something off about the way the Kol has been acting?" Arthur asked, and Alfred nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "The only thing they've really done is-"

"Attack Heracles," Arthur finished. "You'd think they'd try something more drastic, like...blowing this place up."

Alfred laughed. Then, Arthur blinked and stood up. "Alfred."

The American stood as well, looking worriedly at the Brit. "What?"

Arthur closed his eyes and concentrated on the sounds in the room. Then, he opened his eyes. "There are only two bloody clocks in this room," he concluded. "The one over the couch, and the one on your nightstand."

Alfred nodded, trying to understand the situation. "And...?"

"And there are more than two things ticking in this room," Arthur finished, and Alfred blinked. He closed his eyes and concentrated. Then he opened them again.

"Shit, Arthur, you're right," he said, and the two locked eyes with one another for a brief second, before recalling Arthur's previous words.

_You'd think they'd try something more drastic, like...blowing this place up._

Alfred and Arthur quickly turned off the two clocks they could actually see, and then tried to hone in on the remaining ticking. It led them both to the ceiling fan. Arthur, with a little help from Alfred, ripped off one of the wooden blades of the ceiling fan with his knife.

_Damn, he's strong, _Alfred noted, impressed. The two collapsed onto the bed, and Arthur held the fan's blade in his right hand. He was looking at it, horrified. Alfred got up and looked over his shoulder, and gasped lightly.

On the blade was a tiny bomb. It had been taped, and the ticking nose still resounded the walls of the room.

There were thirty seconds left.

_**Tick.**_

_**Tick.**_

_**Tick.**_

**_~Operation: No More Mr. Nice Guys~_**

**Yeah, I know. I'm a jerk. *shot again***

**Sorry...another extremely necessary cliffhanger. It had to happen, I'm sorry! :( Oh, and this chapter...eh. It was...okay.**

**And about the security descriptions and all that...blame Marvel comics and Ultimate Alliance. xD **

**Sorry I didn't update yesterday by the way! See you next chapter! :) There shall be more USUK, I promise.**

**LoveHateLove,**

**Blank Paiges o/o**


	7. Operation: Bomb and Injury Disposal

**THIS IS SPARTA.**

**...oh, and it's also the next chapter. xD Thanks for all of the reviews, guys! I love you! ^^**

**PLEASE READ THIS NOTE: After today, I may not be able to update daily anymore due to school-related matters (ugh) so the updating MAY have to turn weekly. I apologize for this inconvenience; I want to update as much as you want me to. :) Just letting you know... :( **

_**Chapter 7: Operation: Bomb and Injury Disposal**_

Arthur and Alfred stared at the bomb before realization kicked in. They had to get this thing out of here. Pretty damn fast.

"Arthur!" Alfred asked, panicked. "You're a freaking assassin! Can't you disable it or something?" There wasn't much time left.

"Not with the amount of time we're given!" Arthur yelled back, equally as panicked. Then, the Brit whipped his head around to the window. Alfred followed his gaze and knew just what the Brit was thinking.

"Arthur, no! Don't you _dare_ jump out that window!" Alfred yelled, but Arthur was much too fast. The Brit darted to the window, opened it, and jumped out, landing on the wet street of the alley beneath him, taking the bomb with him. Alfred ran to the window and yelled, "Arthur! What the hell are you doing?"

The Brit, running in the distance, didn't turn back. Instead, he just screamed, "Stay back and protect the others! That's your job, isn't it?" The American was about to retort, when Arthur added something that made his blood run cold.

"You live to protect! I live to kill, so by God, I'm going to die murdered!"

And Arthur disappeared into the night. Alfred found himself unable to move, unable to breath, as he sank to the floor of his room, clutching his bomber jacket like a child would clutch a teddy bear.

_Why? Why am I just so **useless** when the chips are down and it matters most?_

Not long afterwards, a huge explosion was seen and heard in the huge river nearby. It was a beautiful, orange color, with little dots of red and sometimes purple. The sound was deafening. Alfred's breath hitched in his throat, and he sat there, waiting for about a minute.

It felt like an eternity. And Arthur didn't come out.

"Enjoy the fireworks?" A voice came from the doorway. Alfred jumped and whipped his head around to the doorway.

Natalia Braginsky stood there, leaning against the door frame, a smug look gracing her beautiful features. Alfred blinked and stood as realization dawned on him.

_Security is so hyped up here that the FBI probably couldn't get in._

_Ivan had to have had somebody on the inside._

_...oh, God, _Alfred thought as he glared daggers her. "...You. You traitor."

Natalia shrugged. Then, she smirked heavily. "Boo."

She ran towards Alfred, and the American readied himself for a fight. However, Natalia missed him completely and jumped right over him, out the open window and into the night. Alfred cursed heavily and followed her.

The night was cold and crisp on his cheeks. Alfred chased after Natalia's disappearing form. The white-haired woman looked back. Upon seeing that the American was hot on her trail, she cursed and knocked over a few trash cans, in the hope of slowing him down. However, she missed one important detail.

This was Alfred. Alfred F. Jones.

You don't fuck around with him, especially when you just _might_ have murdered his love interest.

The American dodged the trash cans narrowly, leaping up to dodge one, rolling onto the floor to dodge another, and almost-but-not-quite running on the wall to dodge the last one. Natalia growled and took out her guns. She launched a couple of shots at Alfred, who dodged them perfectly, and took out his gun as well, shooting at the disappearing form of Natalia Braginsky.

Soon enough, the two came to a dead-end, and Alfred smirked. He cocked his gun and pointed it directly at her, pure hatred burning in his eyes.

"You traitor," he murmured. "I can't believe you."

Natalia laughed and dropped her guns, which had ran out of bullets a while ago. "You're funny."

That was it. The last straw. He reloaded his gun and came up towards her, pointing it at her neck. "You killed Arthur."

She continued to laugh, despite the gun at her throat. Then, she sent an uppercut straight into Alfred's jaw, and the American, blinded by hatred, hadn't expected it. He reeled back, clutching his bloodied jaw.

"Bitch," he mumbled, then proceeded to attack. He dropped his gun and went straight for her, launching a punch at her face, which she dodged. Natalia jutted her leg out in the hopes of tripping Alfred, but the American jumped over it. She cursed and attempted to punch Alfred in the gut, which he narrowly dodged. Then, Alfred leaped over her and dropped down behind her. He sent a bone-shattering blow to her back, and she let out a large "oof!", which was accompanied by a sickening crunch.

Natalia fell to the cold alleyway, clutching her stomach. Alfred turned her over with his foot and stepped on her stomach, rage burning in his eyes. Her cold, dastardly eyes met his, and when she laughed, she coughed up blood. Alfred winced.

"Are you going to kill me, Jones?" she asked, blood running down her mouth. "Or does that go against your entire hero complex shit?"

Alfred pulled out his gun from his pocket and pointed it at her. She laughed, throwing her head back.

"Can I ask one last question, before you blow my brains out?" Natalia asked, and Alfred's eyes flashed before he nodded. She smirked. "What are you afraid of? Come on, everyone's got a fear."

Alfred cocked his gun and leaned down to shove it in her neck. She let out a sharp cry of pain, before looking up. "Answer the question. Come on...Spiders? Death? Snakes? Scorpions? Come on," she drawled. "I'm going to die anyway. At least give me a good answer."

The American thought for a while before answering. "I'm not afraid of anything," he stated confidently.

The Belarusian rose an eccentric eyebrow before asking, "What about love, Alfred, hmm? Are you in love?"

All it took was a tiny flicker. The tiniest hint of hesitation. The smallest twitch upward of the lips. Natalia caught it, and she smiled.

"Ah, you are," she said, and Alfred made a disgusted sort of sound. She laughed again. "You're in love right now, I can tell. Let me guess. Hmm...Kirkland?"

_Well, no dip, Sherlock, _Alfred wanted to say, but for once, restrained his tongue. He cocked the gun again, and pushed the gun deeper into her throat. She laughed. Alfred swore he had never seen anyone so giddy about their last moments of life.

"I knew it," she said. "Love is a weakness, you know. Just look where it got me."

Alfred winced. The Belarusian shrugged her shoulders and said, "You can kill me now, Jones." The American blinked, then sighed and stood up, tucking the gun into his pocket. Natalia rose her eyebrow.

"What's wrong? I killed Kirkland. You should kill me."

Alfred chuckled, but there was no humor in it. Instead, he kicked her once more, reveling in her grunt of blinding pain, and said, "But that would make me no better than you."

Natalia eventually fell unconscious, and Alfred carried her body back to HQ. He took the body to Kiku's office and explained the situation to him. Kiku told Alfred that he would take care of things, and dismissed the American bodyguard. And by "take care of things", Alfred hoped he meant prison. Prison for a long time. That, and maybe she could get them information on Ivan.

And he made his way back to Room 103A, his one hope being that Kirkland was alive, and was waiting to insult him on the other side of the door.

~_**Operation: Bomb and Injury Disposal~**_

Kiku Honda sighed. He had placed Natalia in a cell after he had gotten over the shock of having been betrayed, and had ordered a few of his employees to check for any more bombs surrounding the building, or even in it. He waited anxiously for the call on the walkie-talkie.

Suddenly, it crackled.

_"Sir?"_

"...Yes?" Kiku asked, fists clenched tightly.

_"There seems to be three more bombs on the premises. Each has about four minutes before they explode, though, unlike the one Jones and Kirkland found."_

Kiku's breath hitched, but he calmed himself long enough to give orders and remain in the chain of command.

"Take them out."

"_Yes, sir."_

_**~Operation: Bomb and Injury Disposal~**_

Alfred made it back to his room and looked around. No sign of Arthur. He breathed in, then out again, and sank to the floor, covering his ears with his hands.

He could still hear the explosion. It rang in his ears, like a bell that refused to be silent. The loudest boom he had heard in the world.

He sat there for a while, hands covering in his ears, as if it was the end of the world.

Arthur returned two minutes later, and saw Alfred sitting in the corner, hands covering his ears. The American's eyes were screwed shut. He tilted his head, amused.

The British assassin slowly sauntered up to the American bodyguard and knelt down next to him. "Alfred?" he asked, tugging at the American's bomber jacket. "Jones? Hello?" Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes, then without thinking, blew in Alfred's ear. The American immediately shot right up and screamed.

"GYAAAAAAAH!"

"GYAAAAAAAAH!"

"...oh," Alfred said as soon he saw it was only Arthur, who was by now half-way across the room, terrified of Alfred's sudden outburst. "What the hell, Arthur? Don't sneak up on me like that! I was terrified, man!"

Arthur, who had regained a good portion of his brain, blinked in disbelief and scoffed. _"You're _scared? Look at me, I'm fucking terrified!"

The two took a moment to breathe, when realization dawned on Alfred.

"You're alive!" Alfred exclaimed, standing up. Arthur stood as well, brushing dust and ash off of him.

"Well, yeah," he said nonchalantly, but let out a surprised sort of noise when Alfred devoured him in a hug. Arthur attempted to break it, but Alfred spoke.

"Thank God. I thought you were dead," the American exulted into the assassin's trench coat. "Thank God."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "...so what? Would you miss me if I was dead?" he asked, smirking. The American pulled away and smiled that brilliant smile of his.

"Of course," he said. Arthur laughed, and then flinched in pain as the American's hand went to his left arm. Alfred, alarmed, looked towards his arm and had a sharp intake of breath.

"You're hurt," Alfred realized, letting go of the Brit's arm immediately. Arthur scowled.

"I'm fine," he said. "Just a cut...I fell in the water while getting rid of the bomb, and my arm scraped against something. No big deal. ...What are you doing?"

Alfred proceeded to unbutton the Brit's trench coat, despite his immediate protests. He threw the trench coat to the ground. Then, Alfred lifted Arthur's sleeve and gasped.

"God, you're not fine, Arthur," he said, taking in the wound. It was almost the entire length of his arm, and blood was spilling from it even as they spoke. Dried blood had clotted around it, making it look even worse.

"I can patch up my own wounds, thank you."

"Well, I won't let you," Alfred insisted, and made Arthur sit on the bed. "This cut...God, don't hide things like this from me!"

Arthur's eyes flashed and he looked to his lap, frowning, feeling humbled and contrite, and awful that he had made Alfred worry, though he would never admit that.

"I'm sorry," Arthur mumbled. Alfred was pleasantly surprised at the apology and smiled at the Brit.

"Don't worry, Arthur," he said, crossing the room to retrieve his medical kit from underneath his couch. "I'll fix you right up."

"I'm even _more_ worried now," Arthur dead-panned, but there was a good-natured humor in his voice.

_**~Operation: Bomb and Injury Disposal~  
**_

Francis and Matthew followed the scanner into a storage room. The bomb was in here.

"North," Francis said, and the two headed that way. Suddenly, the scanner blinked to life, indicating that they were right where the bomb was.

"But...where is it?" Matthew asked, looking around. Suddenly, he blinked, and sighed as he looked upwards. Yeah, it was on the top shelf.

"_Merde," _Francis cursed, and Matthew nodded his agreement. Then, he got an idea.

"Francis!" he ordered, and the Frenchman immediately turned to the Canadian, eyebrow raised. "Stand here. I'll climb onto your shoulders and grab it."

Francis snickered, and Matthew groaned. "No dirty jokes right now, please!" Francis nodded, remembering the gravity of the situation, and stood where Matthew said to stand. The Canadian then climbed up onto Francis's shoulders.

_He's surprisingly light, _Francis realized, as Matthew stood straight up and balanced himself on the Frenchman's shoulders. "Do you see it?"

"Yes!" Matthew said. "Two minutes and thirty seconds! We have to..whoa...whoa!" The two let out an undignified cry as Matthew lost his balance and the two toppled onto the hard floor. Luckily, Matthew had the bomb.

"Ow!" the Canadian moaned, lifting himself up off of the floor. "I fell on my coccyx." Francis rose an eyebrow, amused, and chuckled.

"Hehe...you said-"

"Oh, grow up!" Matthew scolded, but allowed himself a little chuckle before turning to face the bomb. "One minute, forty-five seconds..."

He quickly got to work, taking a hair pin out of his hair and a pair of scissors out of his pocket. Francis looked over him.

"...Green wire."

"Got it."

"Red wire."

"Check."

"Now, cross over the-"

"-blue one with the white one," Matthew finished, nodding, and proceeded to do just that. The ticking promptly halted, and the numbers on the screen turned black. Bomb 1 was out.

Matthew and Francis let out a huge sigh of relief and collapsed back onto the floor, laughing.

Francis turned to the Canadian. "Are you sure you aren't an assassin? You're good at this entire bombs ordeal."

Matthew shook his head. "No," he answered, laughing. "I'm just a computer geek."

Francis laughed in response before contacting Kiku on the walkie talkie. It crackled to life.

"Bomb 1's down, Kiku."

"_Excellent."_

**_~Operation: Bomb and Injury Disposal~_**

"This is insane," Alfred said while carefully stitching Arthur's wound together. "You aren't even flinching."

"I've done this to myself many times," the Brit explained. Alfred chuckled.

"Why am I not surprised?" the American asked the air, and Arthur wanted to punch him. The two sat in a companionable silence for a while, before it felt awkward and Arthur just had to break it.

"So...you'd miss me if I was dead?" he asked, and Alfred halted his stitching before meeting Arthur's gaze.

"Uh-huh," he said, and went back to stitching.

"Why?" Arthur asked, still not satisfied with the answer. Alfred continued stitching this time, but his mind pondered on what he should say.

_I can't tell him I love him. Not yet, _Alfred reminded himself, so he settled with, "I would have no one to argue with, I guess."

Arthur knew he should have punched the git right then and there, but for some reason, coming from Alfred, the statement was...endearing.

"O-oh?" he responded dumbly, and Alfred laughed.

"Yeah!" Alfred responded. "You always bring out the worst in me, for some reason, and that's why I like you so much, Arthur. 'Cuz no one usually sees my bad side, only you." Arthur blinked.

"Was that a compliment, or an insult?" he queried, a smirk playing on his lips. Alfred, who had finished the stitching, sat up with a satisfied sigh. He admired his art for a bit before turning to Arthur.

"It was an insulting compliment," he answered with a smirk, and Arthur face-palmed.

"Excuse me while I regrow some brain cells," the Brit said into his palm, and Alfred laughed.

_**~Operation: Bomb and Injury Disposal~**_

"You asshole!" Lovino spat, following Antonio down the darkened hallway. "I told you we were going the wrong way! Look how much time we've lost!"

Antonio smiled to himself as he looked down at the scanner. He opened the door to the gym and went inside, Lovino not too far behind.

"Which way, O wise and beautiful one?" Antonio asked, handing Lovino the scanner, which the Italian promptly bashed him on the head with. Then, the Italian examined it and came to a conclusion.

"West," he announced, and Antonio, rubbing his head, followed suit. The two continued walking westward until the scanner blinked to life. They both looked all around, but found no trace of the bomb. Suddenly, Antonio pointed upward.

"Lovi-"

"Lovino, you prat."

"_Lovi_, look," the Spaniard was pointing to a basketball hoop with a bomb taped on it. Lovino glared daggers at the machine, as if his glare would melt it into spare parts.

"...Are you fucking serious," Lovino asked the heavens, and then proceeded to take out his gun. Antonio rose an eyebrow.

"Lovi, um...I don't think you should do that!"

Too late.

The Italian pulled the trigger and shot the bomb. Antonio scrunched his eyes closed and waited for the end, when...

"Open your eyes, _idiota,_" Lovino demanded, and the Spaniard opened them. The bomb lay in a dysfunctional heap on the floor, sparks and smoke radiating off of it. Antonio blinked and laughed.

"Well, that's one way to disable a bomb," the Spaniard chuckled. "Good job, Lovi." The Italian flushed and looked to the side.

"Yeah, whatever," was his response, and Antonio laughed pleasantly, leaving Lovino to once again wonder if this guy was a masochist.

The Italian quickly contacted Kiku.

_"...Lovino?"_

"Bomb 2's out," Lovino announced into the walkie-talkie, "...and so will this stupid Spaniard if he continues calling me 'Lovi'."

_**~Operation: Bomb and Injury Disposal~**_

The cut was, surprisingly, very well-stitched together. Arthur couldn't help but admire its craftsmanship as Alfred put some gauze over it.

"You're very good at this," Arthur commented, letting some jealousy enter his voice. "Almost better than me." Alfred laughed as he finished wrapping the gauze.

"Yeah," he replied. "I was supposed to be a doctor."

Arthur blinked, surprised. "What happened?"

There was a pang of pain behind Alfred's glasses-which Arthur had come to know as "Texas"-and the Brit recoiled, wondering if he had asked one too many questions.

"My parents were killed," Alfred confessed, leaning back against the bed. Arthur found himself at a loss for words.

"Oh," he responded, gulping. "I'm..uh...I'm sorry." _I've treated him so harshly, but he's got his share of pains too._

"S'okay," Alfred replied, shrugging. He laughed. "You didn't know. I'm over it, anyway."

An awkward silence filled the room before Alfred broke it again.

"And anyways, if they hadn't been brutally murdered, I would never be where I am today! You know, with...um...," Alfred paused. He scratched the back of his head. His cheeks grew a massive shade of red. For once in his life, he stuttered. "...with, um...you."

The two sat there, staring at each other for a while. And then something snapped. Alfred lurched forward and took Arthur's face in his hands, leaning in so that they were nose-to-nose. Arthur didn't realize he had stopped breathing until he started again.

"Arthur...there's something I've gotta tell you."

_**~Operation: Bomb and Injury Disposal~**_

Feliciano Vargas tip-toed into the kitchen, clutching the scanner in his hand. It wavered in his nervous grasp, but he always got a hold of himself whenever he caught a glimpse of Ludwig. His Ludwig.

Cool, composed, and uber-bad Ludwig.

Feliciano smiled as the two caught a glimpse of the kitchen. This place brought back so many memories...wait!

He shook his head, his curl dancing in his brown hair, and attempted to focus. The Italian checked the scanner. "West, Ludwig!" Feliciano announced proudly, pointing in that very direction. His German partner nodded and the two followed where Feli had been pointing. Suddenly, the scanner blared wildly.

"Here," Ludwig said, and looked around. Frowning, he added, "I don't see it."

"Doitsu, Doitsu!" Feliciano cried. "Doitsu" was a part of a secret language the two shared. It meant "Germany" in Japanese. "In...in here. Wow, this is so weird!"

Ludwig followed Feliciano over to an oven. He looked over the Italian's shoulder and nearly fell over from shock.

What kind of idiot puts a bomb in a freaking _oven? _One that's _on, _no less?

"Ve~! Ludwig, are they trying to cook it?" Feliciano asked, concerned for how the bomb would end up tasting. "If so, I think they're doing it wrong."

Ludwig allowed himself a chuckle. Too cute. He then attempted to reach inside and grab it, remembering that this was a bomb and it could explode at any moment, when Feliciano slapped the German's wrist.

"Ah!" he said, and pulled out a set of oven mits from a nearby drawer. He then pulled the bomb out and smiled brilliantly at Ludwig. "Oven mits! Wouldn't want you to burn yourself."

Ludwig laughed, then turned to the bomb, grabbing the oven mits Feliciano was holding out. He did a procedure very much like the one Matthew had done, and shut it off completely. The two sat there, waiting and watching the bomb, as if waiting for it to explode. Then, they sat back and laughed openly, relieved that they had shut it off.

Ludwig called Kiku on the walkie-talkie and reported their success. Then, he decided that it would be good if he could just sit back and enjoy one of the little wonders in life-hugging Feliciano.

Soon afterwards, the Italian piped up.

"I'm sort of glad we disabled the bomb, Ludwig," he said. The German couldn't help but laugh again.

"Oh? Why's that?" he asked. _Aside from the fact that we could have fucking died._

"Well, whoever did it doesn't know a thing about cooking!" Feliciano exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. Ludwig rose an eyebrow.

"Do they, now?"

"Yeah!" the Italian nodded. "_Everyone _knows that when you're trying to cook bombs, you've gotta slice some grenades and throw 'em in there, too!"

_**~Operation: Bomb and Injury Disposal~**_

Arthur's breath hitched in his throat. He didn't know what was about to happen. All he knew that Alfred, Alfred F. Jones, the man he should have detested but somehow didn't, was right in front of him, and...well. He just might get kissed. And he didn't know how he felt about that. Or did he?

Alfred's breath hitched in his throat. He didn't know what was about to happen. He'd lost his control, and he'd lost his composure. What the hell was he going to do now? Move in for the kill? Kiss Arthur? What?

Just when Alfred decided he was going to move in for the kill, somebody burst into the room. Again.

"Guys, Natalia's woken up! She's willing to-are you fucking_ serious_, I broke another moment?" Elizaveta cried, running out of the room to cry her eyes out. Alfred and Arthur parted once again, and the American threw a pillow at the two currently present (Francis and Matthew), and demanded:

"Do you know how to knock?"

Arthur's face was so red that he couldn't say a word.

Francis, finished laughing, said, "Natalia's woken up. She's willing to talk. Come down to the cells." Matthew, hiding behind Kumajirou, ushered Francis out of the room and closed the door...

...leaving Alfred and Arthur completely alone.

The two immediately shot up off of the bed and turned to each other, both scratching the backs of their heads.

"Well, we'd better go," Arthur said.

"Yeah," Alfred concluded. The Brit turned on his heel all too quickly and went to walk out of the room, Alfred on his heels.

_I'm so stupid, _Alfred thought, cursing himself. _Why would someone like Arthur..._

_...fall for someone like me? _Arthur thought, sighing.

What a long night.

_**~Operation: Bomb and Injury Disposal~**_

A man stared in shock at his computer monitor, then, outraged, slammed his fists onto his desk, making the two assistants standing behind him flinch.

"They disabled the bombs!" he yelled, throwing his hands up in the air in outrage. "All four of them! Impossible!"

"...They _are _the best, though," Ivan said from across the room. "I'd have to say there's no group that does their job better than those men and women."

The man lifted his gaze to look at the Russian across the room. He tilted his head. "...Do not be mistaken, Ivan!" he screamed, crossing the room to point a finger at the Russian ex-assassin, as well as ex-bodyguard. "These people are your enemies! Learn to despise them! Learn to...what are you looking at?"

The man followed Ivan's gaze to the computer, where Yao was seen at the moment, organizing papers and clipping them together. The man smirked, let out a sound that sounded like realization, and turned to face Ivan, whose dark eyes were already fixated back on his boss.

"Focus, boy! Focus!" the man scolded, and slapped Ivan. The Russian brought his hand up to his cheek and looked up at his boss, his eyes expressionless.

"Sorry, sir."

The man scoffed. "I am merely helping you, Ivan. That..._thing-_"

"That _thing _has a name," Ivan corrected, rage coating his eyes. "His name is Wang Yao." And then, as if to piss his boss off further, added, "He's very pretty."

His boss laughed-that same humorless, colorless laugh that everyone seemed to be laughing nowadays. "Well, that boy is a distraction. I need you focused, Ivan!" He hit him again, and Ivan fell to the ground with a grunt. His boss knelt down and whispered,

"Now be a good boy and let me help you. That's all I'm trying to do," the man said with a smirk and got up. "Don't let your feelings for that boy-your feelings for _anyone _on their side, for that matter-distract you from your duty!"

Ivan got up and dusted himself off and nodded. "Yes, sir."

The boss nodded, satisfied. "And just what exactly_ is_ your duty, Braginsky?"

Ivan's eyes flickered for just a moment. Some part of him didn't want to do this anymore. He didn't want to go against his friends, and he didn't want to do his "duty". When, he wondered, had he lost so much control? Over his life? Over his responsibilities?

The Russian gulped silently, then answered what he had been answering for the past few weeks.

"My duty is to destroy all of the assassins and bodyguards."

**_~Operation:Bomb and Injury Disposal~_**

**_HAPPY NEW YEAR! :D_**

**Since I won't be seeing you as often cuz of school, I made this chapter longer. Much, much longer. My arm hurts. xD Be happy! :D**

**And sorry about that failed USUK moment! It couldn't happen yet-the story was planned this way; don't worry, when they finally get together, it shall be epic!**

**I LOVE YOU ALL. I CAN'T SAY THAT ENOUGH.**

**I hope I shall be able to update! See you next chapter, whenever that arrives! :D**

**ALL MY LOVE,**

**Blank Paiges ;)**


	8. Operation: Revelations

**Hi, guys. Been a long week, huh? XD But here I am...and don't kill me. And I hate this chapter. Just so you know.**

**Honestly, I didn't know who the hell should be Ivan's boss. So I just went with what suited me. Sorry it sucks, but the story isn't centered on who Ivan's master is, ya know! DX**

**_Chapter 8: Operation:Revelations_**

"You actually made her talk," Yao mumbled, surprised, heading down into the cells, running a worried hand through his dark black hair. Arthur, who had been lost in his thoughts-something about Alfred, though he would refuse to admit it-snapped his head up.

"Wha-?" he asked, and Yao shot him a pointed look, before noticing the blush on the Brit's face.

"I...was simply marvelling over the fact that they made her talk," Yao supplied the missed information; Arthur nodded his understanding.

Alfred chuckled as they opened one gate and followed the darkened hallway, nearing where Natalia was being kept.

"I know," the American laughed. "But Kiku can be aggressive and seriously terrifying sometimes. That way, it's not much of a surprise, really."

"Plus Francis," Arthur added, "and the two make one convincing pair."

A few chuckles and snickers arose from the crowd. Soon, everyone arrived to the front of the cell where Natalia was being held. The door was large and silver and round, and had Honda Bodyguard Office scrawled in big, bold, black letters at the bottom. It had a screen at the side, which Alfred did the honors of showing to the assassins just what the heck it did.

The American placed a finger to the screen, and waited. The screen, originally a pale blue color, changed to a sort of bloody red and began typing in a sort of black text. Alfred turned around to Arthur and winked; the Brit rolled his eyes and folded his arms.

"Get on with it."

The screen finished typing. It read:

"Name?"

"Alfred F. Jones. Bodyguard Officer Number 123," Alfred said into the screen, and the screen turned into its original blue shade. The silver door hissed open, but it didn't release any gas, like Arthur had originally expected. Those present quickly stepped into the huge silver room.

Natalia sat there, an amused smirk on her face. She was tied to a chair that didn't look all that comfortable, really; her feet were tied down with silver shackles and her hands were tied behind the back of the chair.

Yet she still seemed to be having the time of her life.

"Oi," she said. "Any of you got some coke and a TV? I'm gettin' kinda bored here..." Kiku shot her a pointed glare.

"You said you'd talk, Natalia," he said coldly, venom dripping from his every word. The Belarusian sighed.

"Oh, lay off!" she replied. "I already got the hell kicked outta me by Jones. Ease up."

Everyone examined Natalia's wounds, then silently turned to stare at Alfred, who laughed and scratched the back of his head. "I have my dark moments."

"Hell yes," Natalia agreed, then smirked. "Especially when he has the proper, er...", she turned and stared obviously at Arthur, who blinked, "..._motivation." _She finished, and both Alfred and Arthur flushed a deep red.

"Now tell us what you know," Francis ordered, removing a gun from his pocket and cocking it. "Every single little bit."

Natalia's eyes glazed over, and her features took on something entirely more serious. She looked old-as if she had been through too much in the last few weeks.

"First things first," she began, sighing. "You've got video cameras that _aren't _yours hidden in every single-"

"My men took care of all of them," Kiku replied, and Natalia chuckled.

"Of course you did. Right after you disabled all _four _bombs, right?" Natalia asked, and Alfred and Arthur, alarmed, stepped forward.

"There were more?"

"Of course there were!" Natalia scoffed. "I'm not so naive as to only install one." Arthur shrugged. Yes, multiple bombs were a very good idea, he had to admit. Note to self: Try it sometime.

"The cameras," Natalia continued, "were, obviously, to insure that you guys were right where he wanted you to be. So that you would fall into all of his traps-and not suspect the bombs, or even me."

Francis nodded, keeping the gun poised directly at her head.

"It's a good thing you've un-installed the cameras," she commented. "Otherwise, he'd know I was giving you this information, and I would be dead right now." Kiku shrugged nonchalantly, his stoic face not even flinching once.

Silence bounded around the walls of the silver room. Then, Natalia continued.

"...and Ivan isn't the bad guy," she added, and the entire room shifted. Alfred and Arthur blinked in surprise; several people mumbled and whispered. Yao, without flinching once, stepped forward, his face wrought with determination.

"...What do you mean?" the Chinese man asked, his face a mixture of hopefulness and determination-but never disbelief. When Natalia refused to answer, he said louder, "What did you just say!"

It wasn't a question anymore. It was a demand.

The Belarusian smirked and leaned as far back as she could in the silver chair. "...I said that your proposition was correct. Ivan is _not _behind this, no matter how much evidence can be used to support the fact that he is."

Yao blinked and then smiled. He didn't know what to feel. Happy? Relieved? Scared? Yet the smile still somehow found a way to his face. "He...he isn't?"

Natalia, for once, smiled something genuine. "No," she answered. "Not once. You all might have kicked him off of the team for getting too crazy, but...he never held you people accountable. He...blamed himself."

At this, Yao clenched his fist and gritted his teeth. _Why...wouldn't he tell me?_

Apparently, Natalia got a bit more emotional and sniffled a bit, tears streaming down her cheeks. "He's...he's being used," she blurted, her voice cracking on the word "used". "But we didn't know it in the beginning. We thought that this guy would be able to help big brother...but he didn't."

She sniffled again. Arthur's gentleman radar suddenly kicked in and he reached into the pocket of his black leather jacket and pulled out a green handkerchief. He handed it to Francis, who sighed and wiped the Belarusian's face and nose, considering she could not do so herself.

"Ivan's...been having these visions," Natalia continued, her voice serious, blinking her tears away. "They started back when he was still on your squad, Honda."

Kiku blinked and leaned forward. "Visions?" Natalia nodded.

"I'm not lying," she added. "I've got a fucking gun pointed at my head, and my brother's sanity and his life is in danger. I'm not lying." Everyone decided that this was a good point, and believed her.

There was silence for a long while, before Francis decided to break it.

"...what kind of visions?" the Frenchman asked. He wondered if it was anything like those fairies or unicorns Arthur constantly saw. Natalia swallowed and bit her lip, scared.

"Like...visions. From his childhood," the Belarusian answered, and when everyone stared at her in a confused manner, she sighed. "It's hard to explain. Ivan...big brother...he was abused as a kid, so..." That's where she began to trail off. Suddenly, Feliciano appeared out of the crowd, a pair of glasses on his face.

He looked so...serious.

The Italian held some papers in his hand and said, "Yeah...abuse can cause some mental instability, it's true. When children are abused, especially at a young age, they tend to kind of keep it pent up inside of them. Sometimes, one day, it just...blows," Feliciano finished, looking up from his papers. "Poor Ivan."

Everyone, however, was busy staring at Feliciano. Did...he just act..._intellectual? _

Feliciano smiled, but there was no humor in it. "Everyone's got their serious moments, ve~." He then returned to stand next to Ludwig. Kiku smiled fondly.

"I made him doctor for a reason," the Japanese man stated, then turned back to Natalia. "The abuse could have taken a serious toll on your brother. Visions are a very serious side effect." Natalia nodded.

"When he was still on your brigade, he began receiving them. Visions. Of mom. And dad. And sometimes, he would mistake his comrades for our parents. Then, to protect himself...," she paused and gulped. "...he tried to kill those around him."

Yao felt a sudden twinge in his heart, like a cold hand had lashed out and wrapped itself around it. Why couldn't he be of any help?

"That's why he accepted so willingly when you kicked him off of the team," Natalia finished for Kiku, smiling sadly. Her fingers brushed the shackles that she was tied to and she sighed. Then, she turned to Francis.

"He joined your team because he thought it was probably safer for him to go to a life of crime," the Belarusian explained, her eyes sad. "But villain or not, he still got the visions. And he was still kicked off." Natalia had stopped crying, but there was something in her eyes that made it look like she was crying. Like sadness. Or sorrow. Or agony.

Utter silence filled the room. Several people set a few apologetic glances towards Yao, who waved them off. Arthur nearly fell backwards, but Alfred caught him, stabilizing the Brit. Matthew hugged Kumajirou closer and thought about how it must feel like to be Ivan right now. The results made him cry.

"...then we met this guy that swore he could help my brother," Natalia continued, breaking the silence. Everyone turned their attention back to her and blinked. "He _swore _that the visions were your guys's fault. He _swore _he could make it all go away. He _swore..._," she paused, and a couple of tears escaped her eyes, "...that he could make Ivan live a normal life again."

Silence bounded from the walls of the room, and it almost hurt their ears.

"...what happened?" Feliks, in the back, asked. Originally, he had been combing his hair. But the story was just so interesting and shocking that he had stopped, leaving the comb absent-mindedly hanging in his golden locks. Toris sighed in irritation and pulled it out.

Natalia laughed, but it was dry, and held no humor whatsoever.

"...What usually happens," she scoffed, spitting on the floor. "That guy was a liar and a cheat. The visions kept getting worse. And the more Ivan's around him, the more he thinks you guys are the bad guys."

Once again, silence. It wasn't as if no one had anything to say; it was just that they didn't know how to put it to words.

"...and he's the leader of the Kol, too. Not Ivan," Natalia answered the silently asked question, chuckling though there was nothing to chuckle about.

"So...Ivan works for him? He works for this jerk?" Alfred queried, folding his arms angrily. _That guy is **so **not heroic!_

Natalia nodded, her eyes glazed over with hate. Everyone swore they could see the same black and purple aura that was always behind Ivan whenever he got seriously pissed.

"Yeah," she answered. "Works for some dick named Winter."

~_**Operation:Revelations~**_

"This is unbelievable," Matthew said, running a weary hand through soft, light brown hair. "I can't find anything on this Winter guy. Nothing. I've checked everywhere, and I've hacked everything, eh!" He moaned, and Kumajirou shot the Canadian a look that clearly said:

"Belt up, Mattie."

At this, Matthew stuck his tongue out at the polar bear, and Kumajirou leaped off of the Canadian's lap and ran down the hall. Matthew sighed in irritation. "Fine, be that way..."

"Any luck?" Francis came in with two cups of hot chocolate and handed one-the one with the maple leaf on it-to Matthew. The Canadian took it gratefully and shook his head.

"None so far," he stated miserably. "I've hacked everything. I checked the data base seventy times, I think. And Google sure as hell is unreliable." Matthew blew over the tope of the mug and took a sip. He winced slightly, because it was still kind of hot.

"Careful," Francis scolded. "It's still hot." The Candian nodded and set it to the side to wait. Sometimes, he couldn't help but feel that, in a past life, Francis had been his guardian or something. He felt the same with Arthur sometimes, too. (The Brit had once covered him with a blanket when he had fallen asleep on the job.)

But he quickly dismissed the thoughts, considering that they had absolutely nothing to do with real life and were absolutely impossible.

"It's as if this Winter guy...," Matthew trailed off, trying to gather his thoughts. "Doesn't exist at all." Francis got a curious look.

"Maybe he's using a fake name?" he offered, and Matthew then sighed and moaned, face-palming.

"Then I'm dead meat, eh," the Canadian said, and Francis laughed.

"Well, hey!" Francis stated, getting up from his seat. "Since he's probably using a fake name and thus, there's no way you can find him-"

"Gee, thanks."

"-and we're going to raid the Kol tomorrow-"

"..and take Ivan with us, so that we can help him..."

"-do you want to practice in the Simulation Room, with me?"

Matthew blinked in surprise, then blushed. "Um...huh?" Francis shrugged.

"Better safe then sorry, eh_, mon ami_?"

Matthew supposed that these were good sentiments and nodded. "You can handle a gun, right?"

Francis laughed. "I'm the leader of the assassins, Mathieu! Of course I can!" Right. Stupid question.

Then, the Canadian smirked. "...Can you fire four at once?"

_**~Operation:Revelations~**_

"I told you," Yao exulted in his brother's face, and Kiku rubbed his temples.

"As you've been happy to point out for the past...oh, hour?" Kiku spat, continuing to rifle through his papers. Yao smiled.

"But I always knew he wasn't bad," Yao said, smiling into his cup of hot chocolate. "When we get him back here, I'm gonna make sure I get him fixed, aru."

Kiku looked at his brother, then smiled. Love was really a marvellous thing-it could manipulate people to do the greatest things. But, then again, it could also make them do the worst things.

"He'll be okay, Yao," Kiku said and smiled even wider as the Chinese man turned to look back at him enthusiastically. "He's gonna be okay."

_**~Operation:Revelations~**_

Arthur was staring at the ceiling. Well, he wasn't really _staring _at the ceiling.

He was just lost in thought about Ivan and the attack on the Kol the following night, bunched up with a whole bunch of other thoughts, and his eyes just so happened to be looking at the ceiling.

Arthur sighed and grabbed a pillow and shoved it in his face, moaning. So many emotions were flying through him at the moment-fear of the Kol, pity for Ivan, shock at so much new information...love...

Arthur then groaned aloud again and shoved the pillow deeper into his face to hide its redness. Then he realized that the pillow smelled so much like Alfred-all heroes and hamburgers...

"Is that my pillow?" A voice came from across the room. Arthur gasped and threw the pillow forwards, whacking the American with it.

"NO, IT ISN'T!" Arthur yelled, his face red. "YOU'RE WRONG! WELL, YOU'RE ONLY HALF-WRONG, BECAUSE IT'S TECHNICALLY MY PILLOW NOW, TOO!"

"...which is it, Arthur?" the American laughed and picked up the pillow. He dragged himself onto the bed and placed the pillow in its designated spot. Then, he lay down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, much like Arthur had been doing earlier, before he had been so rudely interrupted. Arthur sighed and returned to his previous position, arms supporting the back of his head as he lay down.

"Today was quite a shocker, huh?" Alfred breathed, and Arthur nodded.

"I...feel sorry for Ivan," Arthur confessed, only half-realizing that he and Alfred were practically on top of each other. "He's had it rough."

Alfred turned to the Brit, ignoring the flutter in his stomach. "What's this? An assassin feeling pity?" Arthur scowled and hit Alfred playfully on the arm, which Alfred returned.

"Assassins aren't immune to feelings!" he announced. "We can feel shitty too, you know." Alfred smiled.

"Wow, you assassins can actually feel things. And here I thought you guys were like Vulcans," he laughed, and Arthur ignored the Star Trek reference. Then, curious, Alfred coughed and asked, "Like what kinds of things?"

Arthur, without thinking, blurted everything he was feeling at the moment. "Just because we kill doesn't make us immune to things like..er, fear or hope or sorrow or joy or pity or...or love!" Alfred blinked and turned from the ceiling to Arthur.

"...huh?"

"...n-n-n-not that I've ever, er...y-you know...actually _felt_ the last bit," the Brit stammered lamely. Alfred smirked.

"Nice save."

"It's true!" Arthur blurted, and Alfred shrugged.

"Hey, I'm fine if you like someone!" the American stated, sitting up straighter. _Actually, I'm only fine if it's me. _

"Sorry, I don't think I do," Arthur retorted, glaring pointedly at Alfred. "I lost the ability to love a long time ago. Care a lot for, yeah...," the Brit ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair and sighed, "...but I can't love." Arthur turned back to Alfred, and nearly jumped back from fright.

The bodyguard looked almost...angry. But why?

Alfred felt himself leaning forward, so that his and Arthur's lips were mere inches from each other. "...You can't feel love," the American stated, and slowly placed his hand on the Brit's neck, then ran it down-slowly- to Arthur's left hand. Arthur felt a sudden surge of electricity surge up and down his spinal cord.

"...If you can't feel love, what _can _you feel?" Alfred asked, his left hand absent-mindedly moving to caress Arthur's cheek. The Brit widened his eyes but involuntarily leaned into the touch. Alfred's face hadn't changed-it was like he was a whole new person. Strict. Serious. Stoic.

"If you can't feel love...," Alfred didn't finish his sentence. Instead, he closed the distance between himself and Arthur with a kiss, and the Brit's mind shut down.

The kiss was exactly like their relationship. Rough. Hard. Like tough love.

Arthur's arms had somehow made it so that he was wrapping them around Alfred's neck, and the American had his arms wrapped around Arthur's waist. When the kiss was over and done with, Arthur's mind was still a bit hazy, and he didn't know what to think. He'd lost the ability to think with the kiss, as well as the ability to breath.

Then, Alfred finished his question. "If you can't feel love...," he asked, his breath heavy against the Brit's lips, "...then what do you feel when you look at _me_?"

Arthur opened his eyes to stare at Alfred. The American's blue eyes were expecting, but expecting what?

_This isn't fair, _Arthur realized, inwardly scowling. _Asking me like this is just...not fair. He...he pisses me off._

But his brain's thoughts didn't quite match up to what his heart's thoughts were.

Arthur looked Alfred square in the eye. "I feel..."

~**_Operation:Revelations~  
_**

**I know. I'm an asshole. *shot* I AM SO SOWWY!**

**FOR THIS SUCKY, RUSHED CHAPTER AND FOR THE SUCKY CLIFHANGER AND FOR THE SUCKY KISS AND FOR THE SUCKY USUK MOMENT! *explodes***

**Why do I so epically fail when it matters most..? TT You can kill me in the reviews, I don't care, I probably deserve it. **

**I'm sowwy! DX**

**LoveHateLove,**

**Blank Paiges DX**

**P.S. Ever try and write "Yao" and have it come out as "yaoi"? That's been a problem for me, actually...**


	9. Operation: Drama

**Allow me to apologize in advance for the sheer sappy-ness and over-fluffiness of this chapter. I hope it doesn't make you puke puppies and rainbows.**

**So here we go! :D**

_**Chapter 9: Operation: Drama**_

"I...feel...," Arthur's voice trailed off and his face burned an insane shade of red. He cleared his throat and looked down, tucking a strand of dirty blonde hair behind his ear. The British assassin sighed mournfully and looked up again at Alfred, whose face looked as if the American were hanging on his every words.

"What are you saying...?" Arthur asked, though it was completely obvious what Alfred was saying. When he received nothing in response, he sighed again.

"Look, I've...been meaning to ask you something...for a while now," Arthur said, avoiding Alfred's gaze. Then, he met it again, and blue and green clashed in a frenzy of wild emotions. The assassin took a massive breath.

"Do you..._like_ me?"

Alfred's face was neutral for a few seconds. Then, his face flushed a deep red. Arthur had received his answer.

"This...this is stupid," Arthur mumbled, his voice cracking. Alfred's face fell, and Arthur removed his gaze, once again, from the American. "I..had no idea you were that imbecilic." Then, he removed himself from the bed, ran a hand through his hair, and asked, "Why?"

_Out of all of the people you, the wonderful American hero, could have chosen to fall in love with._

_Elizaveta._

_Kiku._

_...Anyone._

_...you chose **me**?_

When Arthur received silence as his response, he cursed and grabbed his trench coat off of the hook. "I can't do this," Arthur mumbled, loud enough so that Alfred could hear it. He opened the door of their room and proceeded to leave. "I'm sorry."

Slam.

_Tick._

_Tick._

_Tick._

_**~Operation: Drama~**_

Francis stared at the Canadian in disbelief, who had just finished off Level 25 in the Simulation Room.

He had also kept true to his word, and had shot four guns.

At the exact same time.

Matthew turned around to stare smugly at the Frenchman, who was gawking in awe and amazement and scrutinizing over how the _hell_ Matthew was able to do that, and why he looked so damn sexy _while_ doing it. Matthew blew some smoke away from the guns in his hands and dropped them, placing both hands back into the pocket of his sweater and scooping up Kumajirou from his spot on the floor.

Francis was still utterly speechless.

"You...how...good...mon _dieu_," the Frenchman breathed out when he managed to find his words. Matthew smiled and laughed.

"It's a trick, Francis!" he said, letting Kumajirou down onto the floor and walking over to the discarded guns on the ground. He picked them up and headed over to Francis, who flinched slightly, as if the Canadian were about to reign living hell on him in the next few seconds. He wasn't, of course.

"See?" Matthew said, brushing his hand against the guns. "It's actually only two guns. However, there are two guns combined into each one, triggered by only one trigger, so technically there are four."

Francis observed the gun in awe. It was true-upon closer inspection, Francis noticed two guns attached to one another, making one whole gun powered by just one trigger.

"That...is _so_ badass," Francis chuckled, admiring the craftsmanship. "I've never seen anything like it."

"Well, of course you haven't," Matthew replied, placing the two guns onto the shelf nearby. "I designed those. They're two-of-a-kind."

Once again, the Frenchman was shocked into silence. The Canadian had just entirely rocked his world.

When this alliance was over (and he loathed to admit that he didn't really want it to be), he was going to find some way to take Matthew with him. The boy was simply incredible.

"Is there anything you can't do?" Francis asked, scratching the back of his head. Never before had he been so humbled. Matthew paused to think for a second, tapping a curious finger on a nearby grenade launcher. Then he sighed.

"Well," he answered, "it seems I can do _everything_ except _be _noticed for doing everything." The Canadian sounded a bit sad now, a distant look in his eyes. Francis noticed this, and smiled, crossing the room to place a hand on Matthew's shoulder.

"Well, believe me," Francis chuckled. "_I'll_ notice you for it."

The Canadian whipped his head around to look at him and blinked. For a really long time. He looked so shocked and confused and just so _happy. _Francis was surprised, having not known he could have caused somebody to feel so cheerful. Usually, he just made them want to have sex.

Matthew opened his mouth to say something, anything-when:

"HE'S AN IDIOT!" resounded the walls of the room. Matthew and Francis whipped their heads around towards the Simulation Room's computer lab. They shrugged and ran into it, to find Elizaveta staring at the screen in shock, clutching her face with her hands.

"What is it, Elizaveta?" Matthew asked, coming into the room. "Are you unwell?"

"Are you watching some sort of Asian drama?" Francis piped up. Elizaveta shook her head viciously.

"No!" she yelped, slapping her face with her palm and sinking dramatically into her chair. She peeked out from between her fingers.

"Um...what's happening?" Matthew queried, though he was afraid to find out. Elizaveta took a while, but she sat up straight, straightened her blouse, and sighed, turning to the Canadian.

"Do you _really_ want to know?" she asked. Matthew and Francis exchanged concerned glances at each other, and then nodded.

"Sure."

"Fine, then," Elizaveta said. She took a massive breath. Then:

"ARTHUR AND ALFRED FUCKING _KISSED _AND THEN ALFRED ASKED HOW ARTHUR FELT FOR HIM AND THEN ARTHUR WAS ALL LIKE "THIS IS STUPID, WHY, WHY, WHY" AND THEN HE JUST FUCKING UP AND LEFT THE ROOM, LEAVING JONES ALL ALONE! CHASE AFTER HIM, ALFRED! DON'T JUST SIT THERE ON THE BED LIKE AN IDIOT! CHASE AFTER HIIIIIIM!"

By now, Francis and Matthew were backed up against the door in fear, and Elizaveta was slamming her head on the desk over and over again. A few seconds passed. Francis then piped up.

"Um...what episode of what TV drama is this again?"

Elizaveta sighed. "It's not TV, it's Alfred and Arthur."

"No difference."

The Hungarian woman had to shrug and accept that good point. It was true. Then, she began running her fingers agitatedly through her hair again, cursing. "Gah! Why does that Brit have to be such a _fucking tsundere_?" she asked no one in particular. Francis shrugged.

"Arthur's a tsundere. We might as well accept that."

"I don't care if he's a tsundere!" she exclaimed, standing. Matthew didn't know what a tsundere was, but he thought it best not to ask. At least now while Elizaveta seemed to be having some sort of meltdown.

The Hungarian woman sighed and sat down again. "It's just...damn it, why can't they just be together?" Francis shrugged again.

"All TV dramas have shit that happens to the characters," he said. "None of the love interests are ever 'just together', realize that? Alfred and Arthur are just going through one of those dramatic scenes. It'll all be over soon."

At this, Elizaveta scowled. "Where's the remote?"

Matthew blinked in surprise. "For what?" The Hungarian woman sighed and leaned back in her chair.

"I wanna fast forward to the lemon scenes," Elizaveta moaned, and Francis laughed.

"You and me both, my dear," he said, grabbing a chair and settling down next to the Hungarian. Soon enough, so did Matthew.

"You and me both."

_**~Operation: Drama~**_

_I...feel sorry for you. _

_...For liking me._

Arthur ran down the hallway, eyes blurred from tears, hand clutching the area where his heart was. Everything was a blur of red and brown and all of the other random colors that happened to fill the entire hallway. His body hurt, from his wound. His heart hurt.

And he hated to acknowledge why.

"Arthur! C'mon, man! Wait!" a voice cried, breaking the Brit's thoughts. Arthur cursed. Damn!

The Brit attempted to run faster, but the American was close on his heels. When they reached the point where Arthur could not run any longer without Alfred catching him, Arthur halted his escape attempt and turned around to face the American, who had slowed in his steps to a complete stop as well.

"Arthur..."

"What the hell is _wrong _with you, Jones!" Arthur yelled, rage burning in his eyes. Alfred flinched; it looked as if he had been emotionally compromised the entire evening as well.

"Nothing," Alfred eventually replied, and Arthur was taken aback. The Brit quickly regained his composure, however.

"You...you're so bloody naive!" he screamed, wiping his eyes of a few stray tears. Arthur turned away from Alfred, his eyes burning. "You don't know one bloody thing about the shit I've done! You don't know what a terrible person I am!" he cried, avoiding the American's gaze.

"I...I've killed men and women of every age. I've set fire to buildings with children inside of them. I've shot a human being without any remorse," Arthur said, his voice cracking. He turned to face Alfred, whose face was neutral. "I...I've...I'm so..._horrible..._"

"You're a hero, Alfred. I live to kill while you live to protect! We don't go together at all," Arthur sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks. He clutched himself, but refused to sink down onto the ground. "_You're _the one who's so bloody amazing..."

_Someone as heroic and as amazing as you..._

_...really shouldn't have need of a monster like me._

The Brit wiped a few stray tears from his eyes and, continuing his broken eye contact, continued. "It would be much better...if you would just say that you hate me and continue doing so, Jones." The Brit squared his shoulders and continued avoiding the American's eyes. Eventually, Alfred spoke up.

"...I hate you, Kirkland."

Arthur was surprised at how much more those words hurt than what he had envisioned. It was like a blow straight in the gut. For the first time in a while, he looked up and made eye contact with those beautiful pools of sky blue. Alfred's eyes were harsh and strict, showing no emotion whatsoever. Arthur nodded, though his heart hurt. His breath hitched in his throat.

"Do I have...to say that?" Alfred demanded, never breaking eye contact. Arthur blinked. "Hating you? Is that my only option right now?" He laughed, but there was no humor in it.

The British assassin swallowed the lump in his throat, but he couldn't find the words. He couldn't form phrases. His mouth just refused to speak.

Alfred took a breath. "I don't care about the shit you've done," the American concluded, clenching his fists. "All I know is that from the moment I met you **(1)** I always sort of liked you! Because you were different from the other assassins! Didn't I say that already? That you were _different, _and that's _why _I liked you?"

The Brit's eyes widened, revealing gigantic pools of emerald green, blurred by tears. Then Alfred continued.

"I already said that I didn't care about the shit you've done!" Alfred said, his voice remaining completely stable, although there were tiny hints of threatening tears near his eyes.

"I love you, Arthur! Why can't you just believe in that!"

Complete silence.

Silence for about one minute, though it felt like one hour.

Arthur's body was absolutely frozen. Alfred-this amazing, out-of-his-league, and downright idiotic _hero_-...had just accepted him. He completely dismissed all of Arthur's previous wrongdoings-his murders, his massacres, his mistakes. Alfred, who was the complete opposite of the Brit, cast aside all of the bad stuff and looked only to the good side. And it was _Alfred, _of all the people in the world. His arch nemesis...

...had just forgiven him.

Arthur couldn't help but feel some strong sense of elated deliverance. He had never been forgiven in his life...and he probably never should be.

So..._why?_

Then, Alfred moved in. Arthur didn't move an inch-it was as if his body were completely stripped of the ability of physical movement. Then Alfred kissed him, and for the second time that night.

It was only typical that Arthur regained his voice the moment their kiss started.

"Bloody...git...you're making a...mmm...huge mistake...ah, _God,_" Arthur mumbled half-heartedly between kisses, but Alfred just continued devouring the Brit's mouth. When they were finished, Arthur glared up at the American bodyguard.

"You are making the biggest and absolute _worst_ mistake of your life dating me," he spat, eyes narrowed. Alfred rose an eyebrow.

"Am I?" Alfred asked and moved to kiss the Brit again. When they parted, he smirked.

"'Cause in my opinion, you are by far the _best _mistake I've ever made, Artie."

Arthur flushed a deep red and attempted to ignore the sighs and "awwww"s radiating from people's rooms, who had opened their doors to see what the ruckus was all about. Then, Alfred sighed.

"Artie-"

"Arthur."

"_Artie_," Alfred said and narrowly avoided the punch that came to his face. He sighed and scratched the back of his head nervously. "We really could die during the raid tomorrow night."

Arthur seemed to really contemplate this fact, and then blushed. "W-well...that..um, doesn't really matter." Alfred rose an amused eyebrow and laughed lightly.

"Oh, it doesn't?" he asked, placing his hands on his hips. Arthur nodded and flushed even brighter. "And why's that?" Arthur blinked, then flushed, avoiding Alfred's gaze.

"...b-because it all depends on what happens tonight."

_**~Operation: Drama~  
**_

"YESSS!" wild cries of success resounded the walls of the computer lab, to the point where Kumajirou the Polar Bear fled the room in an attempt to escape with his life.

Several people high-fived, others whooped and hollered, others squealed in massive delight, and still more just sat staring satisfied at the computer screen. Apparently, the whole squad-assassins and bodyguards both-had been contacted by Elizaveta to watch, and now they were all crowded around the computer.

"See, Elizaveta?" Francis laughed, draping an arm around Matthew, who let out a tiny cry of "maple". "Happy ending."

Elizaveta nodded happily and blew her nose into her seventy-fifth tissue. "That was just so sweet!" Cries, nods, and mumbles of agreement resounded the room.

Kiku smiled, hurriedly throwing his last tissue away in a nearby trash bin. "That was entirely worth my time, Elizaveta-san," he said, smiling brightly. "Thank you." Then, his face darkened.

"...Now get back to work, everyone, or I'll delete this video from the files."

At this, everyone hurriedly emptied out of the room to continue their nightly tasks. Kiku sighed in satisfaction and turned to face the computer monitor, and rose an eyebrow. He then looked up at the clock and shrugged, settling himself down onto the computer chair.

"...A couple minutes more of yaoi never hurt anyone."

**_~Operation: Drama~_**

**Yeaaaah. Sorry. This chapter was basically meant to satisfy the need to get US and UK together in order to get the story where I want it to go. Next chapter is the raiding of the Kol, where all of teh action shall be! :D Sorry for the recent lack of action. Following chapters will have a BUNCH, trust me. :)**

**(1) I shall be writing about how assassin Arthur and bodyguard Alfred first met in a companion fic as soon as I finish this. Don't worry. :P**

**...You'll notice that I have an extreme lack of self-esteem. When that tends to show, just ignore me... ^^**

**LoveHateLove,**

**Paiges :)**


	10. Operation: Compromised

**Ahahahaha~! It's been more than a MONTH!**

**...y'all are gonna kill me...;_;**

**Sorry, but...life's been hell...and that's all I really feel like saying right now, so...**

**So if this chapter seems a bit unfocused…..you know why. **** I'm sorry. I love you guys, I really do, but things are just so pressurizing, you know? I want to update, but with everything going on, I just can't.**

**Please don't be angry with me.**

**I'll make an attempt to begin updating like I used to...sorry...**

_**Chapter 10: Operation: Compromised**_

"We clear on the plan?" Francis asked, his calm and determined face circling the Conference Room, which was currently filled to the brim with killers and saviors alike. The entire room was silent, locked and loaded, weaponry and explosives all pocketed into some part of their backpack and/or body. Francis rose a suspicious eyebrow, and then asked one more time, "Are you sure we're good?"

Then, Feliciano let out a tiny squeak, and Francis and Kiku sighed simultaneously.

"That's what I thought," Kiku said. "Let's run through the operation one more time, just in case."

The entire room groaned in unison. Feliciano blushed furiously at his own weakness, and Ludwig, noticing this, glared pointedly at all those present in the room. "Just so you know, Feli just wants us all returning home safely. Now shut up and listen to the plan one more time. It's good for you."

The whole room immediately fell silent once again.

Kiku nodded towards Ludwig, briefly acknowledging him for getting the room quiet again. "Alright, so what do we do first?"

Several hands went up instantly. Kiku looked around, trying to find someone that wasn't paying any attention. "Gilbert?"

The Prussian jumped, startled, and then turned to face the Japanese man, attempting to remain awesome, despite his lack of attention towards the relay. "Yeah, boss man sir?"

Kiku folded his arms, obviously not appreciating the title. "The operation. What are we doing first?"

Gilbert blinked. "Oh? Oh. Oh!" He laughed at himself. "First, we get within a 120 yard radius of the perimeter. Then split up into groups of two, and different groups meet inconspicuously at different rendezvous points."

Kiku raised an eyebrow. "Alright," he said, nodding. "Which groups go where?"

Gilbert sighed. "The ones going in first...the ones taking out the guys and the cameras on the outer gates..."

"We're called Team Doom," Yao butted in, raising a finger.

"I thought we'd agreed on Team Omega?" Roderich asked, folding his arms.

"I kind of liked Team Unicorn-Fairy Magic Squad," Arthur offered. The entire room silently stared at him in a "what the fuck" manner, before turning back to the current situation.

"I like the sound of Team Pasta!"

"What about Team Alpha?"

"Team Omega's better!"

"Team Yaoi!"

"What the hell?"

"I like the sound of Team Awesome!"

"YOU'RE NOT EVEN ON THIS TEAM!"

"Guys!" France yelled, and everyone stopped fighting, taking back their seats. "We're trying to go through a debriefing here. Please pay attention." Several mutters and complaints escaped the crowd, but they all settled down nonetheless.

"Now, Gilbert," Kiku said, turning once again to the Prussian, who was trying his best not to swat at the fly currently buzzing around him. "You were saying?"

Gilbert coughed. "Oh, yeah," he said. "Well, anyway...Team Alpha Omega Doom Yaoi Pasta Unicorn Fairy Magic Squad-"

"Can we shorten that?"

"-whatever! Let me talk!" Gilbert huffed. "Team AODYPUFMS-"

"That makes even less sense."

"Shut up! Your _mom_ makes even less sense!" the Prussian lamely retorted. "Anyway, the team with the name I cannot pronounce is going to rendezvous at the abandoned apartment due about 15 feet from the Eastern side of the mansion's security bars. When Kiku gives the signal, the tech heads-"

"Hey!" said "Tech Heads" yelled in unison. Gilbert promptly ignored them.

"-the _tech heads _are gonna disable the cameras on the outer gates using...some genius thing that geniuses use-"

"It's not a '_thing'_!" Matthew retorted. "It's a high-frequency-"

"Details, details," Gilbert interrupted, sighing. "Anyway, once the cameras are out, Kirkland takes out the four body guards on the Eastern side of the gate. Silently, preferably."

Alfred turned to Arthur. "Thigh sheaths?"

Arthur kicked him in the face.

"Then Roddy-"

"Not my name."

"Sure it's not. Roddy jumps out next and takes out the guys on the Northern side of the perimeter, but he uses a rifle to take them out, not manually, like Kirkland does-or will do," Gilbert sighed dramatically, wiping his forehead. "The sound of the four gun shots will attract the other guards to the Eastern and Northern sides, and then the rest of Team What's-Their-Names will jump out and go all Jackie Chan on the rest of the guards' asses. They knock them out. Initiate Phase Two."

Kiku nodded, obviously pleased. "And why are we using Roderich's rifle to lure the enemy into the North-Eastern sector of the perimeter?"

"Oh!" Antonio rose his hand eagerly. Francis nodded towards him.

"Yeah?"

"To avoid any hidden cameras that might be paired up with the motion detectors on the mansion grounds," Antonio replied, and Kiku nodded, satisfied.

"Good," Francis said. "Who knows Phase Two?"

Several hands rose, but the Frenchman's gaze was immediately directed to the timid man in front of him. "Matthew?"

"Ah, yes, well...um..," Matthew cleared his throat. "Team Tech-"

"_Real _original there, bro," Alfred commented. The Canadian rolled his eyes in irritation.

"Thank you, thank you very much," he said in reply. "Anyway, once Team Tech is finished disabling the cameras on the outer gate of the mansion, they are going to have to shut down the motion detectors on the Mansion Grounds." Matthew rummaged in his black backpack and pulled out a tiny, spherical, silver mechanism.

"Using this," Matthew continued, "we can easily disable the detectors. However, there's a catch."

The room groaned, and Matthew ignored it. "This device needs to be touching the power source for it to disable it. So one member of Team AODYPUFMS-"

"How did you pronounce that?"

"-is going to have to go onto the grounds, avoid the sensors, and place this device on the power source, which is directly in the center of the grounds. When he places it on the power source, I will be able to disable the sensors."

"And who's that?" Yao asked, then immediately wished he hadn't. "Wait. Let me guess. Me?"

The room nodded.

"You're the best of us on your feet," Kiku offered, smiling.

"Yeah, man," Alfred added. "C'mon."

Yao sighed. "Fine. I'll do it. But if I get fried by motion sensors...you'll know who to blame, aru."

Matthew smiled. "Thank you, Yao." He paused to take a drink from his water bottle, then continued. "Once I disable the sensors, we'll be able to initiate Phase Three. It's actually pretty simple."

Francis nodded, ruffled Matthew's hair a bit, and smiled. "Thank you," he said, smiling. "Now...Phase Three, anyone?"

Yao rose his hand, and Kiku called on him. "Phase Three is actually really simple, aru. I use my kunai to demolish the two video cameras on the doorstep. Then the rest of the teams come in through the gate. Half of us go in through two windows that are directly above the door, and the other half go to the back to disable any remaining computer systems. End Phase Three."

Kiku nodded again. "Phase Four?"

Alfred rose his hand, and Kiku motioned for him to go. "Well, the half of us that go in through the two windows try to find Ivan, but also try to remain as quiet as possible. Basically take out any guys or girls that get in our way, and once we find Ivan, we get 'im the hell out of there."

Alfred paused.

"Then we find that Winter prick, take him with us-"

"-I thought we were going to let him burn with the bomb," Arthur said, pouting. Alfred looked at him briefly, sighed, knowing he couldn't win, and said,

"As much as I'd like to do that, too, Iggy...I can't. Not my thing."

Arthur sighed, shrugging. "Fair enough."

Alfred smiled. They seemed to have been getting along a lot better ever since last night's...antics. "Anyway, we find Winter, handcuff him and shit, and then get him out of the house. The Tech guys are gonna plant the bomb."

Francis nodded, and then said, "Now, what will the other half be doing while they retrieve Winter and Ivan?"

Lovino, in the back, rose his hand lazily, like he'd rather be anywhere but here.

"Yeah?" Francis asked, and Lovino sighed.

"While those guys go in and look for Ivan and the other asshole, my half goes to the back of the mansion, where the Control Room is. Long story short, we take out the guys in there, hijack their systems, and switch off any of their other traps. Problem solved. Then, we go to the center of the house-yes, I know where that is-and plant the bomb in there," Lovino finished. Then he paused.

"And then we get the hell out of there," the Italian added. Elizaveta smirked.

"...and they all lived happily ever after," she finalized. Francis and Kiku looked at each other for a short moment, then turned back to the team, proud expressions on their faces.

"Looks like we're good now," Francis said. "Any final words?"

The room looked at one another silently. Naturally, Gilbert broke it. Cocking a sniper rifle and screaming triumphantly, the Prussian yelled,

"Let's lock and load, bitches!"

_**~Operation: Compromised~**_

"This is it. Right here. Stop. _Stop, _you git, _stop!" _Arthur yelled from the backseat of the huge black-clad vehicle. Alfred, hurriedly removing his headphones from his ears, did as ordered and stopped, doing a 360 degree turn, and somehow managing to park messily near some French restaurant.

Typical.

Everyone in the backseat stared absentmindedly at the road ahead, caught their breaths, and then took turns hitting Alfred on the head. When all of them had evacuated the car and it was just Alfred and Arthur, Arthur took the liberty of hitting Alfred on the head as hard as he could, then kissing it.

Alfred laughed. "Good luck."

Arthur pulled away and adjusted the American's glasses, running a hand through his hair. "Don't die," the Brit replied, placing his forehead on Alfred's. "I swear to Christ, if you die, I will revive you and then kill you myself." Alfred just laughed. The git.

The American then captured Arthur's lips in a tantalizing and somewhat bittersweet kiss. When they parted, Alfred said, "I won't die. I've got _you_ now."

Arthur glared at him, called him a git, and kissed him once more. "And what does having me have to do with anything?"

Alfred blinked, then blushed. He then kissed the Brit's cheek, and whispered in his ear, "'Cause now I have something to come back to."

Arthur blinked in surprise. _Oh..._

"Um, hello!" Roderich called, shattering the moment. "Can we get moving please?" Arthur groaned inwardly, and he could tell Alfred did, too. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Elizaveta punching Roderich for "ruining the yaoi". Whatever the hell that meant.

Alfred and Arthur exited the car and gathered up everyone in their group. Currently, they consisted of all of the members Team Tech and Team AODYPUFMS. Alfred locked the car and they all gathered up in an abandoned alleyway, huddled up to listen to what they were to do next.

"Okay, so Kiku has paired us with one other person from this group," Alfred said. "Basically, though, Arthur's with Roderich, I'm with Matthew, Feliciano's with Eliza, Yao is with Feliks, Toris is with Vash, and Lovino...you're with Antonio. Good luck, everyone." Several people complained about who they were paired with, but eventually, they settled down.

"Go with your partner and pretend you're walking casually. Like, in the park or something," Alfred continued. "Eventually, we will all meet up at the rendezvous point. Make sure to call each of us when you can see the rendezvous area. We don't want to enter the point all at the same time. It'll arouse suspicion. Does everyone remember the code names? Are we all good?"

Everyone nodded their agreement.

"'Kay. Let's go."

Before letting Arthur go with Roderich, Alfred turned around and blew the Brit a kiss. The Brit scowled and mouthed "you're an idiot". Alfred just laughed.

Hopefully, tonight would go without any hitches.

_**~Operation: Compromised~**_

"America, this is England. Austria and I can see the rendezvous point. Over,_" _Arthur whispered into the tiny communication device in his right ear.

A couple seconds passed before Alfred, otherwise known as America, answered. "_Okay," _his voice came back in reply. _"So can we. Can you and Austria sneak into the apartment without looking suspicious?"_

Arthur brought his eyes up to take in the old, abandoned apartment. Jumping into the windows was not an option. Too much noise. Walking right in was not an option either, especially from the East side. The cameras from the gate would see them for sure that way. Then, the Brit caught sight of an open window on the Western side of the old abandoned building.

"Yes," Arthur answered. "Yes, we can. There's an open window clear on the Western side of the building."

"_Do it," _ Alfred answered. "_Be careful. Oh, and Iggy?"_

"You're calling me this why," Arthur deadpanned into the communication device.

"_Long story," _Alfred replied. "_I love you."_

Arthur blushed, but swallowed his pride. "Me too. England out."

Arthur then turned towards the Austrian behind him. He was well-aware that everyone could hear his and Alfred's conversation over their own communication devices, so thank God that Roderich wasn't commenting on what he had just heard.

"Ready?" Arthur asked, and the Austrian man nodded.

The two walked casually out of the alleyway from which they had spotted the building. They talked to each other, so as to appear in deep conversation, and then, inconspicuously slipped into the abandoned apartment through the open window with no trouble at all.

Once inside, Roderich shut the curtains on all sides except for the Eastern side that overlooked the mansion. Then, he pressed his finger to the communication device in his ear. "America? This is Austria. We're in."

_**~Operation: Compromised~**_

_"America? This is Austria. We're in."_

Alfred nodded, pleased, then turned to Matthew, who nodded in response. Matthew pressed a finger to the communication device in his ear.

"This is Canada," he said, bravely. "America and I are entering the rendezvous point."

Several people showed their agreement over the communication device, and Alfred and Matthew made their move. Similar to Arthur and Roderich, they exited the coffee shop they had been sitting in and moved towards the building. The hard part was, Alfred and Matthew had to pass by the Eastern side of the abandoned apartment to reach the Western window.

As the two brothers walked passed the Eastern side, they did not breathe. Holding their breaths, they walked casually passed the camera's intimidating lens, managing to slip into the apartment through the window once the camera could not see them.

Matthew sighed in relief, beginning to set up his computers and laptops in the abandoned concrete room that overlooked the mansion. He greeted Arthur and Roderich briefly before logging in. Alfred hugged Arthur swiftly, before pressing two fingers into his communication device.

"Hungary! This is America. We've reached the rendezvous point. You can proceed."

_**~Operation: Compromised~**_

After Matthew, Alfred, Arthur, and Roderich were inside, everyone else arrived without a hitch. Now the only people they had to wait for were Antonio and Lovino. The problem was that the two, like Matthew and Alfred, would be passing by the Eastern side of the mansion, where four guards and a camera lay perched in a line, like a hawk waiting for its prey.

Breaths hitched, everyone huddled around the high window, spotting Lovino and Antonio easily passing the Eastern side. The two didn't seem to be causing any trouble, and the camera didn't seem to be paying attention to them. They began to calm down when...

"_Shit!"_

"_Oh my god."_

Vash, panicked, pressed two fingers to the communication device in his ears. "Southern Italy, Spain. This is Switzerland. What's wrong?"

Antonio's voice came back, timid. "_I...I dropped a grenade out of my pocket."_

The entire room reeled, listening terrified to the conversation. Toris, mouth dry, asked, "A-and?"

Several long moments passed. Then, Lovino answered.

"_We're on the Eastern side of the mansion. Antonio dropped a grenade on the ground from his pocket. The guard's are still turned around, but..."_

The Italian paused.

"_...the camera's looking right fucking at us."_

_**~Operation: Compromised~**_

**Yeah. Sorry it's so crappy and unfocused...I'm trying to get my life together, so...yeah. :D Please review anyway...I know I haven't been here for a while, but...yeah. :)**

**NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE BETTER! I PROMISE! I really hate chapters where I have no choice but to explain the stuff that's going on...*sigh* That's the kinda chapter this was...;_; Hope you understand. Next chapter WILL be more action-packed.**

**I love you guys so much. I'm going to try and update sooner, like I used to. Thanks. ^^**

**LoveHateLove,**

**Blank Paiges (is back, baby!) :D**


End file.
